


Even When It's Not

by JulyIdes



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, Marble Hornets
Genre: Action & Romance, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Eventual Romance, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-02-24 18:22:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 55
Words: 103,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2591588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulyIdes/pseuds/JulyIdes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jeffrey Woods is kidnapped by Slenderman, works his way into a vicious and violent family, has serious authority issues, despises newbies, discovers the real meaning of daddy issues, decides guns aren't his thing, meets several new monsters, fights for his dysfunctional family, is loved by Laughing Jack and taught by Laughing Jack. Seriously, he wasn't expecting the last four when he turned seventeen. He's really dreading turning eighteen. But maybe he won't have to worry about that, because he's kind of fighting for survival now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Jeffrey Woods is Fucking Kidnapped

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Any familiar characters or places do not belong to me. Rights go to their respective owners.
> 
> A/N: Okie-dokie, so this is my first fan-fiction ever. It's also been uploaded on Fanfiction.net under the same name. If you want to skip all my babbling feel free to and thanks for reading! If you want to know a little bit more about what this story will contain, keep reading and I'll try to make it quick. This story will have plot (it hits its stride at Chap. Eleven) and will include guns, knives, fights, blood, injury, action, and gore. It will also include yaoi, but I'll warn you at the top of the chapter if any *cough* super-affectionate stuff happens. This story was also heavily inspired by Sapphiresenthiss's (super epic amazing) comic Adventures With Jeff the Killer, so if you've read that and didn't like it you probably won't like this story. If you haven't read that I highly recommend it. This fic will have Laughing Jack x Jeff the Killer, BEN Drowned x Eyeless Jack, Masky x Hoodie, and probably more. If you feel like it drop me a review, because I'd love to know what you guys think. Thanks for reading!

Jeff was minding his own business when the monster caught him. Really, he was. Honest. Maybe he hadn't been three hours ago, when he made that couple in the blue house so very beautiful—but he was now. Just walking along, enjoying the autumn nighttime and the emptiness of the town. Little towns were the best—no, correction: rural areas were best, but little towns were second best. In little towns he could do his work and then enjoy the outdoors, since there were no people crowding the edges of town to spook at his face. He was alone and it was peaceful. Until the monster caught him. Then it was not so peaceful. It happened slowly, and then all at once.

So he was walking, right, on the edge of town where no one was, and then he thought there was someone. It wasn't that he saw anything, it was just that his lizard brain raised the hairs on the back of his neck and started slicking his palms with sweat. He glanced around him, across the buildings were people could hide, and across the woods where animals could. There was nothing there except what was normal, but his lizard brain insisted there was a threat present. He paused in his stride and stood, listening to the wind shuffle dead leaves and the distant sound of a single car engine. _There's something bad,_ said his lizard brain.

_You're just paranoid,_ Jeff replied, although he rubbed the handle of his knife where it was cuddled inside his hoodie pocket for comfort. _Even if there was something bad—we're badder than it could ever be._ Anddd _we talk to ourselves. Great, Jeff. I think it's time we put in for the night._ So Jeff started walking again, a little quicker, thinking of his nice, quiet shed downtown. He made it maybe half a mile before the paranoia turned into a chewing fear. His lizard brain was certain the threat was in the woods, but his rational mind told him humans were the threat, not animals. Still—his lizard brain was millions of years older than him, so who was he to challenge it?

He kept a constant eye on the trees, and another mile or so later he saw something. It was dark, but there was moonlight, so the flicker of black and white that caught his eye and made his lizard brain shriek could have been dismissed—but he wouldn't dismiss it. He just knew, he knew, there had to be something there. His lizard brain was right. _I'm sorry I doubted you,_ he told it, stepping up into a light jog and sticking close to the houses. He thought about going beyond them, to the roads, but there were people there, and people—no, he couldn't do that. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

It was a third of mile (only another half mile to his shed, dammit) when the monster showed itself. It was just there all of a sudden, standing at the edge of the road, looking towards him—well, facing him. Jeff wasn't sure if it could look, considering it had no eyes. It was, to say honestly, one of the most terrifying things Jeff had ever seen. Maybe it was the lack of face, or the imposing height, or the way it stood, calmly, while he felt his own heart claw its way into his throat as though it sought refuge in his mouth.

In compliance to his lizard brain's demands, Jeff ran. Kind of. It was an odd run, because he was both trying to look forward so he didn't trip and look backwards to watch the monster-person-thing. As it turned out, he didn't need to look backwards, because it was in front of him and his face was intimately greeting its stomach—which was neither warm nor soft. He stumbled backwards, jerking his knife from his pocket and holding it in front of him like a crucifix towards a vampire. For whatever good that did. Yeah, absolutely none. His mouth started to taste like blood and what a bitch, it couldn't have waited a little while? Jeff swallowed it, but it leaked back over his tongue—it wasn't a pleasant thing, but it was in no way as horrible as the monster in front of him. Besides, the blood-in-the-mouth-thing had been happening for, like, a month. As long as he didn't start vomiting in the middle of his escape, Jeff thought he could live with it.

Spinning on his heel, Jeff bolted in the opposite direction. He got about three steps before his left leg was jerked out from under him and his face was heading for the ground—and then it wasn't, because he was being jerked into the air. The monster drew him back towards it, clutching his leg with a cold, shadowy tentacle and hoisting him high enough that his eyes were level with where Jeff thought its eyes should have been. Jeff snarled and lashed out at its face with his knife. His hand was caught by another tentacle and his knife pried out of his hand. "Motherfucker." Jeff tried to make his voice low and vicious, as though he were speaking to a victim, but it only sounded whiny. Blood dripped from his tongue and teeth as he thrashed and shouted at the monster, splattering on the ground. At least he wasn't swallowing it, so maybe he could avoid the puking part.

The monster didn't seem to give a shit about what Jeff did, holding him back away from its face to avoid his clawing fists and keeping its blank face towards him. It was more than unnerving, and it started to make him feel sick. Or maybe he was going to throw up whether he swallowed blood or not. He stilled his frantic motions, trying to settle his stomach to no avail whatsoever. The monster lowered him some, but didn't put him down, and he barfed. There wasn't much to spill except thin blood and stringy bile, but his stomach didn't seem to get the memo. It kept him heaving for about two minutes, his head craning backwards so the contents of his stomach wouldn't drop into his nose and hair, until he was lightheaded and gasping for breath. Even after the retching stopped, black dots danced in front of his vision and then his vision was gone and he followed it.


	2. In Which Jeff Wakes Up and Meets Freaks

Having no eyelids was beneficial, in Jeff's opinion. For one, it made him look better—more honest, more like _himself—_ and, in this particular case, he could see without anyone knowing he was seeing. He couldn't help the first change in his breathing or the way it made them glance at him, but he was careful not to move his eyes. Eventually they looked away from him and he cataloged as much as he could about their appearances and threat levels out of his peripheral vision. Neither of them was the monster—Jeff shuddered inwardly to recall it, but his body didn't feel injured. Yet. Then again, he hadn't moved at all, so the information could have been moot.

The two people watching him were sitting in plastic chairs near the door. They both had jeans and one had an oversized orange hoodie, while the other had a dark brown jacket. Orange had its hood pulled up, but Brown's face was exposed to Jeff's vision—if, in fact, Brown had had a face. Instead, Brown's face had a white mask shielding it and two dark gaps where its eyes should have been. The two of them spoke, quietly and cleanly (young—like, kids—male tone and Midwestern American accent, so Jeff hoped he wasn't far from the little town and his shed, but the Midwest was a big place), and—Jeff strained his ears because their voices were so low—they spoke about him. "—wake up?" Brown was asking, glancing over him.

Orange shrugged and copied Brown, allowing Jeff to see his face, which was a black mask that continued down his neck and into his hoodie. The only features it yielded to were two red slits for eyes and an equally red frown. "I dunno. Should be soon. What time is it?"

Brown pulled a phone out of his pocket and clicked it on. "Eleven forty-six."

Orange sighed and slid down further in his chair. "At least our turn's almost over."

"Yeah," Brown agreed. "D'you know what's for lunch?"

"Dunno." Orange shrugged again. They continued their conversation after that, but they talked about things and places and people Jeff didn't know. Jeff kept himself as still as possible through the entire thing, his mind spinning for an escape route. If the boys' turn was almost up, then they would leave soon, and the door would be open. On the negative side, they would probably be replaced, so if he tried to make his break then he would have more people to fight at once. On top of that, he didn't even know where he was or how he got here or—or anything, dammit. Well, they hadn't killed him, so maybe he was safe for a little while. He would just figure out what they wanted, and if he didn't like it—well, he was Jeff the Killer and they'd better watch out. Except for the monster. Jeff would avoid the monster.

At approximately twelve (anyway, Jeff assumed it was twelve, because that made the most sense) there was a knock on the door. Orange popped out of his chair and swung the door open, revealing another freakish person. This one was weirder than Orange and Brown, although in clothing style they didn't differ much. He was taller than Orange and Brown, but he wore a black zip-up hoodie. His skin looked like it was painted dark gray, and he, like the others, wore a mask. His was deep blue and had empty, dark holes where the eyes should have been, like Brown's, and a dark liquid trickled from them. "Hey," Orange greeted him.

"Hey," Black said. He sounded older than they were—older than Jeff, maybe—but still not an adult. "Slender said to wake him up." Black nodded towards Jeff and Jeff tried hard not to stiffen—but he really didn't want to be woken up. Not that he was _scared_ , just that—well, he wasn't ready. That's all.

"Okay," Orange said, walking to Jeff's side and leaning over him. "Hey, you have to get up. Wake up." Orange jabbed him in the cheek. "Guy. Jeff. Whatever. You can sleep later. How are we supposed to know if he's awake?"

"He'll move or something," Brown said, appearing at Orange's side.

"Hurry," Black said.

Orange sighed and touched Jeff's eye with a single gloved finger. Jeff flinched and decided to give up the gig if the bastards were going to poke his eyes—he snarled at Orange and jerked away, sitting and nearly toppling off of the other side of the bed when his hand didn't land on a mattress. He caught himself and glowered at them, first Brown and Orange and then Black. They all looked back at him with their no-eyes.

"Hey," Orange offered. "Sorry about that. Good morning."

Jeff stared at him, taken aback by the pleasant greeting. "Morning?" he asked.

"Kind of afternoon. It's twelve. You slept a long time," Orange said, stepping away. "You're okay, though, now. You're safe."

Jeff scoffed. "Really? What about the monster?"

"Which one?" Black asked, his voice dry as desert dirt in a ditch. Jeff almost snorted at that alliteration.

"The black and white one. Really tall. Tentacles," Jeff said.

"His name's Slenderman," Black said. "And he wants to see you, so up and at 'em."

"What?" Jeff asked. "No way."

"He won't hurt you," Brown said, his voice softer even than it been when he was across the room.

"No, he won't," Orange seconded. "He just wants to talk."

"He fucking kidnapped me," Jeff snapped. "And he's not _human._ Is he?"

"No, he's Slenderman," Orange said. "And, I mean, I guess he did kidnap you. But not really. Where else did you have to go?"

"Home," Jeff said. "I had a shed. A very nice shed."

"Look," Black interrupted, crossing the room in a few long strides. "Slenderman wants to talk to you, so he'll talk to you. Maybe when he's done you won't have anymore questions. Now come on, before he gets upset."

Jeff sat for a few more seconds, debating his options, before he slid out of the bed, crossing his arms and glaring at Black. "Who are you, anyway?" he demanded.

"I'm Eyeless Jack. Those're Masky and Hoodie," Black said, nodding at the boys.

"Which one's which?" Jeff asked, looking over at Brown and Orange.

"I'm Hoodie," Orange said—in hindsight, Jeff considered, he _was_ the one wearing the giant hoodie—"and that's Masky." Orange nodded at Brown, who lifted his hand in a small wave.

As Eyeless Jack led them to...somewhere, down a hall with slick carpet and zero windows, Jeff decided to ask, "Where are we, anyway?"

"America," Eyeless Jack said.

"More specifically."

"Can't get more specific than that at the moment."

And that was about the end of the information Jeff could pry from his companions. Shortly Eyeless Jack stopped in front of a glossy wooden door, and Jeff started to feel fear creep back into him—the fucking monster was behind that door—as Eyeless Jack knocked. There was no response, but a second later Eyeless Jack opened the door and led Jeff, Masky, and Hoodie inside to face the monster— _Slenderman,_ Jeff thought, shuddering.


	3. In Which Jeff Talks to Slenderman and (Kind of) Makes a Decision

Slenderman was only slightly less terrifying in an office setting than he was at night. He sat in one of those spinny office chairs behind a wide, wooden desk, and he leaned forward and folded large white hands in front of him when Jeff and the others entered. He still didn't speak, but he motioned for them to sit in the chairs positioned in front of his desk. There were only two, one of which Eyeless Jack took. Masky and Hoodie slipped back out of Slenderman's office, leaving Jeff to sit in the second chair, focus on breathing, and glare at the floor.

"He says good morning," Eyeless Jack said.

"What?" Jeff asked, looking up at the eerie blue mask.

"He says good morning," Eyeless Jack repeated, his voice irritated and grating against Jeff. "He speaks telepathically, but he can't speak to you, because you're not his proxy."

"Proxy?"

"Shut up and listen," Eyeless Jack said. It was quiet for a moment, and then Jack continued, in a mellower voice, "He wants to know if you slept well, and he apologizes for your rough meeting. It's always like that."

Jeff grimaced and rubbed at the bottom of his (actually, not his. One he'd never seen before, but whatever. He was wearing it so it was his) t-shirt, because he was missing his hoodie and that in itself made him twitchy, but his knife, his baby, that was gone too. He was defenseless if he said the wrong thing. So, cautiously and politely, he said, "I slept well, thank you, and it's fine." Who said serial killers didn't have manners? His parents were good for some things. Annoying things—but Jeff guessed they were sometimes useful, when you were pretending— _lying—_ to be part of a society.

"He says that's good," Eyeless Jack said, stretching back in his chair. "He would like to explain some things, if you'll listen. Then you're free to make your decision."

"Thank you," Jeff said, nodding.

"He says you're much politer now than you were last night."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Anyway. He says 'Welcome to my mansion. Anyone you see here is my proxy, and I would like to invite you to become one, Jeffrey Woods. You needn't make a decision right away. Allow me to explain. Proxies are my servants, yes, they carry out my work—but they are also my children. They are welcome in this home at any time, so long as they follow my rules. This house will provide safety, shelter, and care for you. You won't need to wander or go hungry ever again—and you can still kill. There will be schedules, of course, but I would never prevent you from doing as nature intended you.

"'I appreciate your talents. I've been watching you for a while. You've been sick, haven't you? The blood in your mouth? That is my sickness. I apologize. If you become my proxy it will vanish.'" The longer Slenderman spoke through Eyeless Jack, the tighter the furious fist around Jeff's ribs became. "'You will also be able to communicate directly with me. You will do jobs for me, and follow my orders—and in return, you will receive respect and a mansion.'" Fucking great. Jeff didn't fucking need a fucking mansion. "'A boy of your talents is worthy of this. If you say yes, you will be marked and become a proxy, like Jack and the others.'" Bastard. "'If you say no—Jeff, I don't say this to coerce you into a decision, but if you say no you won't live. You—'"

"Not coerce?" Jeff demanded, jerking his eyes up to Slenderman's face, feeling his fear momentarily squashed beneath the heavy body of anger. "You're fucking forcing me into this—you—you—how could I say no? You're _threatening_ me. What if I don't wanna be your fucking proxy, huh? What if I just wanna be _mine_? _And_ alive?"

"He says, 'This is never possible,'" Eyeless recited, looking at the far wall. Or turning his head in that direction, anyway. Could he see? "'A person is never their own. They are firstly products of their parents, and of their families, and of their households and their teachings—being human is being something created by humanity. No matter how you fight it. I am sorry for this, but I offer you something better than what you've known. A higher purpose, a home, a carefree life—'"

"I don't want it," Jeff said, curling his hands around the arms of the chair. "I don't want this."

"'I know it must come as a shock. After being on your own—how long has it been, Jeff?'"

"Almost a year," Jeff said. "I'm _thirteen._ I had this all fucking planned out and now you're _ruining_ it. Why did you even have to talk to me? Why couldn't you just leave me the fuck alone? I was doing _fine._ "

"'You were doing well for a thirteen-year-old boy, Jeff, but you weren't doing well. I probably saved your life. Now look at what I offer you—and all you have to do is—'"

"Follow your orders? Like a fucking _dog_? No way, man. I—I belong to me."

"'Of course you do,'" Eyeless said. "'I won't own you. You'll still have free will, for the most part. You'll be my soldier. My child. I will take care of you, and you will take care of my jobs.'" _I don't need anyone to take care of me,_ Jeff thought viciously. _I've been fine on my own, bastard._ "'This is fair. But you can have time to think about it. I will need your answer tonight.'" Eyeless's voice switched from monotone parroting and he said, "He wants me to tell you what it's like being a proxy. It's not bad. We're safe and—I mean, there are rules, but for the most part you're still your own. Better. More powerful. You'll have contacts and friends in high places, if you stay here. Anyway, it's better than the alternative. He doesn't _want_ to kill you. It'd be a waste. Now we're dismissed. Come on and I'll introduce you to the others."

Jeff slunk out after Eyeless Jack, waiting until he pulled the office door shut behind him to hiss, "I don't fucking want to meet the others. Leave me alone."

"There's no point in being a child abou—"

"Fuck you. Leave me alone." Jeff stomped past him and back towards the room he'd woken in, pleased to find it unlocked. He slammed it behind him and searched for a lock, but there wasn't one. Throwing himself onto the bed, Jeff huffed into his pillows. Eyeless Jack wasn't old enough to call _him_ a child. And at least children were honest and good—before the world _ruined_ them. Adults were _always_ trying to control you. Why couldn't he just be _him_? Why were there always laws and words and _lies_ to make you into something you're not? Jeff kicked his feet against the mattress and groaned. He just wanted to wander, out in the quiet where he was alone and safe and independent. He didn't care if he was hungry sometimes, or cold or bored. Just as long as he could do what he wanted. And now this _bastard_ wanted to tie him down, muzzle him and collar him and drag him around like a working dog. Well he _wasn't_. _He_ , and thank you very much sir, was a wolf.

Jeff moped on the bed until there was a knock on the door. He ignored it, but it was pushed open anyway. "Hey, grumpy," Eyeless Jack said. "It's dinnertime."

"Fuck you," Jeff said.

"What's that? Get your mouth out of the pillow, idiot."

"Said _fuck you._ "

"How eloquent. Dude, you're thirteen. Grow up and quit pouting. It is what it is. Now live with it or die."

Eyeless Jack left him alone after that, and Jeff fumed over the words until he thought about them—which, admittedly, he did take two hours to get around to. The advice was rough, but it was honest, and honesty was Jeff's policy. So Eyeless (even if he was an idiot) had a point. He could live, and see what became of him, or he could die and that was that. No matter how large his ego was, or how much he spit and snapped, it was fact. There were two choices. He just had to make one. Live or die?

Well, that was easy. Jeff didn't want to die. He needed to keep making people beautiful. And maybe it wouldn't be so bad. _Maybe._ Probably it would be, but who was he to give up? Jeff the Killer didn't give up. Jeff the Killer was beautiful and cunning and determined. Jeff smirked and stroked the wrinkles out of the pillow. Of course. If he didn't like Slenderman he'd weasel his way out of the deal. He was smart enough. He was the smartest. Smarter than adults and teens and kids and monsters. Why had he felt so powerless? He was never powerless. He was _Jeff_. So he made his decision, emboldened now, and went looking for Slenderman with an empty stomach and a saunter.


	4. In Which Jeff is Marked and Given Advice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ack! I only made a giant error and posted Chap. 2 here instead of Chap. 4 Thanks so much to DarkTARDIS for pointing that out. So this is the actual Chap. 4 now. Thanks for reading!

Jeff thought Slenderman was pleased when he informed him of his decision, but he couldn't really tell—you know, what with the lack of face and everything. Slenderman motioned him to sit again and scribbled on a notepad before passing it to Jeff with one slim, white hand. _You have made a good decision,_ it read. _You will now be marked. The process can be painful, although not overly so, and will place a permanent scar on your body. Afterwards you will be able to hear my thoughts in your head. It may hurt at first, but I will be quiet._

"Okay," Jeff said, pushing the notepad back to Slenderman. He wasn't afraid of pain—not if it made him better. "What do I need to do?"

Slenderman scribbled again. _Go and lock the door. Then remove your shirt and stand here. When the marking is done I will speak to you._

Jeff did as Slenderman told him, shuffling apprehensively once his torso was bare. He'd never been shirtless in front of anyone but his family—and never after, you know, the incident. And definitely never in front of a monster. Slenderman rose and—his tentacles were back and this was getting creepy very quickly. Jeff braced himself as one thin, delicate tendril curled itself against the skin of his lower back and started to burn. It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't agony. Air hissed out between his teeth and he clamped his mouth around any other sound. The pain lasted a good minute, until the smell of seared flesh reached Jeff's nose and made him want to gag. The last time he had smelled that he—okay, Jeff gagged. The tentacle retreated, vanishing into the shadows. He could still smell his own flesh, burning, and bile rose in his throat. He swallowed rapidly, trying to choke back the nausea, and his left hand trembled. Slenderman stared at him.

When he had reined in the damn memories and smothered them under _think of the present_ he was able to feel relief. "That's it?" he asked. He craned his neck around to look at his back. There, tucked against the skin, was a small, clean black mark. It was almost a full circle, but there was approximately an inch of clear skin between the two ends. Inside the almost-circle there was another mark, one that reminded Jeff of how little kids drew flying birds, like an upside-down, loopy W. This one was sideways, though. Before Jeff had a chance to observe his new mark more closely, he felt a pressure in his head.

"Hey hey hey," Jeff said, clutching his skull. "What's that? What are you doing? Are you doing that thing? Okay, just wait—wait a minute." Slenderman didn't wait a minute, and the pressure increased. It was _wrong, wrong, all wrong_ to have that _thing_ forcing itself into his mind. He tried to close it out but it pushed forward, spreading itself inside his mind, attaching itself like a parasite.

Jeff was so shut into his mind, trying to defend what was _him_ and what he didn't want the thing touching, he didn't notice he had sunken to the ground and hunched over himself until his forehead met the carpet. He didn't realize, either, that he was whimpering a litany of, "Stop, stop, stop, get out, stop, please," and that his left hand had resumed its shaking. Still, Slenderman didn't stop. Jeff didn't know how long it was, how long he buried himself in his mind and pleaded with the monster that burrowed into it, but when the pressure finally stopped his back was stiff, his body was hot and shivering, and Slenderman was sitting.

The sudden freedom in his head was like breathing after being shoved underwater and Jeff basked in the feeling until he felt a nudge in his mind. The fear must have shown on his face, because Slenderman shook his head. Whatever _that_ meant. Jeff really hoped it meant the pressure wouldn't be back. The nudge came again and Jeff warily concentrated on it. At first it was wisps, impressions, and then words—yeah, those were words. One word, specifically, and one he was intimately familiar with. _Jeff_ , the thing in his head said. It had a smooth, calm voice.

_Slenderman?_ Jeff asked.

_Repeat that,_ the thing said. _More forcefully. My mind is not accustomed to yours. Think loudly, if that makes sense._

_Slenderman?_ Jeff tried to make his mental voice loud, a shout, and saw Slenderman nod.

_Yes, good,_ Slenderman said. _You may get off the floor now._

Jeff heaved himself away from the carpet and stretched. His spine popped and he groaned. _How long was it?_

_Loudly, Jeffrey._

_How long was it?_ Jeff shouted in his head.

Slenderman looked over at the wall and Jeff copied him. _Almost an hour. That's normal._

_It sucked._

_Yes, it usually does. A mind isn't made for more than one. If you hadn't had the mark—well, it would have been much more unpleasant._

_So what now?_ Jeff asked.

_Now you are my proxy. This is your home. You may go anywhere at anytime, except the others' rooms. Then you must knock. Don't antagonize them—Jeffrey, listen carefully to me. There are many rules here, but this is the most important. It will, hopefully, keep you alive. Everyone in this house is under my control, incoming proxies like yourself excluded. Even so, I cannot watch and control them all the time. In time, I'm sure you will find friends here. Humans were not made to be alone and I would not forbid you these relationships._

_However, with these relationships you must be cautious. Perhaps the others will seem nice—indeed, perhaps they_ are _nice. But you must never,_ never— _Jeffrey, listen to me—forget who they are. They are murderers, maniacs, madmen. If you anger them I cannot promise your survival. I would ask that, for your part, if someone angers you—you may hurt, but you may not kill. If you anger someone, although I have given them this rule, they may not obey. They would readily kill you._

_The society we have in the mansion is an old one. My children are like wolves. Our ranks are strong—and they must stay that way. The others—you, too, yes, you'll do this—will play with you, joke with you, be friendly with you. But they are always,_ always, _watching for weakness. And if they find it, if you give them a chance to bite, there is no doubt in my mind that they will. If you give them an inch they will take far more than a mile—they will take everything they see._

_Jeffrey, you may be friends with the others. But never show them weakness—it will make them feel unsafe, you understand. Weakness is threatening. Even species as advanced as humans understand this—and while the outside society tries to ignore it, here we do not. Never show weakness. Do you understand?_

_I understand,_ Jeff said, nodding. He grinned—well, more than usual. _You don't have to worry._ I'll _be the one they need to watch out for._

_I'm sure you will,_ Slenderman said. Since the voice had little inflection, Jeff couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. Jeff choose to believe he was serious.

After Jeff pulled on his shirt, Slenderman returned his knife, which had been filed away in the large safe behind the desk, and Jeff cuddled it to his chest. _Thank you,_ he said, fondly rubbing the metal.

_Of course,_ Slenderman said. _Your hoodie should be in the laundry pile—I believe it was Masky's night to sort that. You might go see him. And I'll tell him to give you a tour._

_Alright,_ Jeff said. Masky did have his hoodie, which was incredibly white, and did show him around Slender Mansion with Hoodie. It was three stories tall. The top two stories were mostly bedrooms and bathrooms and storage rooms. The first floor had a foyer, a wide kitchen, a dining room with a ginormous table and at least fifteen chairs, a large living room with couches and bean bags and game stations and a flat screen TV, and a coffee room. The coffee room, Jeff decided, was his favorite. It was small and round, with a large bay window and balcony and a (nonalcoholic) bar with stools. Hoodie told him this was usually where everyone hung out in the morning or evening, but they'd be chased out if they talked too much. After the tour, Jeff retired to his room. It was only, like, nine, but his head hurt and he just wanted to think for a little while. He thought about a lot of things before he slept, and one of them was that maybe staying here wouldn't be so bad. It would be a nice life.

Hardee har har. Yeah right.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so early upload because a) I'm switching houses and all this stuff and my wifi is spastic at best and absent at worst, so uploads and replies to comments could be less frequent for a couple weeks. Still at least one chapter a week, I'm hoping and b) it's Thanksgiving and I wanted to say Happy Thanksgiving to everybody, so: Happy Thanksgiving!

The years passed slowly, but when Jeff turned around and looked back at them he wondered where the hell they had all gone, and so quickly. The Mansion, for the most part, stayed the same, but the things inside it changed. New proxies came and went. Masky and Hoodie grew like little weeds—he discovered shortly after he joined them that they were twelve and thirteen, respectively, and now—well, what were they? Masky was sixteen and Hoodie was seventeen, he thought, but he really wasn't keeping track. He just knew how old _he_ was and how weird he felt about turning into an adult soon. He'd had to buy a new hoodie a couple years ago—it was exactly the same as his old one, but it wasn't his old one. He kept that one stored in his closest now. Hoodie had finally grown into his orange hoodie and Masky had swapped out his old dark brown jacket for a new tan one. Eyeless had gained a couple inches so he could keep towering over them, but he refused to give up his hoodie, so it always pulled up around his wrists.

In addition to the growth of his friends—the only ones that remained at the Mansion through the years—their team was growing. This was not, in Jeff's opinion, a good thing. It used to be he would have a job at least once a month, often more, but now—now he was lucky to get one every couple months. And _now,_ today, they had _another_ damn newbie coming in. Jeff didn't see why Slender kept finding more—like they needed more. There weren't enough jobs for them all, and even the endless rooms of the Mansion were running out. Jeff didn't know what he would think if Slender kept bringing them in once they ran out of room. That wasn't the deal.

The deal had been: yes, Jeff, you will be able to kill when you need to. And he needed to more often than he could. The bloody desire would spark up about two days before the pain came—physical, in his stomach, and mental because he wasn't doing what he supposed to. Slender would usually hurry to give him a job when he complained about that—he'd know if Jeff lied, though—although Eyeless got priority, since, you know, he would starve if he didn't kill. And now the _newbies,_ the fucking newbies they didn't need. Jeff'd show them. Didn't he always?

A real grin wormed its way beneath his permanent one. The years hadn't passed for nothing—no, he'd gotten much stronger and much better with his knife. And he always remembered Slender's advice—it had, as promised, kept him safe several times. So now, every time they had newbies, Jeff made sure they realized who was at the top of their (not including Slender) little hierarchy—Eyeless. And then him. Sometimes all it took was morbid threatening. Other times it took a confrontation with somebody else, and for somebody else it took a confrontation. Jeff didn't ever let a confrontation go without leaving his mark on his new housemate—small cuts, big cuts, it depended on how much he hated them in the moment. They always yielded after the first few fights.

Caught in the spin of his thoughts, it was almost absentmindedly that Jeff threw his knife at his door when it swung open, because bastards didn't enter his room without permission. He threw it off-center, and lightly, because he didn't want to kill the guy—but that shouldn't have concerned him, because the silhouette he was absolutely sure he saw vanished in a swirl of black smoke. With a grimace of surprise, he hopped off of his bed and glowered at BEN, who had flattened himself against the wall in front of Jeff's room. "What the hell trick was that?" Jeff demanded.

"I have no idea, seriously," BEN said. "It was the newbie."

Jeff made a show of sticking his head into the hallway and looking both directions. "Huh," he said, "that's funny. What newbie?"

"Laughing Jack," BEN said. "He can, um, well it looks like he can disappear. I didn't know either."

"Yeah, okay, BEN," Jeff sighed. "Knock first. What do you—"

"No, I swear, it wasn't me," BEN said, widening his eyes. "The guy opened your door. He's been doing that to all the doors, to say hi or whatever. He's weird."

"Is that right?" Jeff asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," a voice that was very much not-BEN's said, somewhere off to his side. Jeff did _not_ jump a foot in the air, he just spun around so quickly his feet may or may not have left the ground for a couple seconds. In front of him, off to the side of his room, was a person who resembled Jeff. That was weird enough—white skin and ringed eyes, dark hair—but the person was smiling at him. Strangers didn't smile at Jeff unless they were angry—or he made them smile. They looked nicer when they smiled. But on a living person—it creeped him out. The person raised his hand in a sheepish wave. "Hey. I'm Laughing Jack."

"Fuck you," Jeff said, his (damn stupid) voice shriller than normal. "What the hell, man?"

"I didn't think you would throw a knife at me," Laughing Jack said.

"You don't just walk into people's rooms," Jeff snapped. "Didn't your mother teach you manners?" He'd hoped to hit a nerve, there, because more often than not Slender's proxies had sore spots about their family or lack of one. This one didn't seem to, because he hunched his shoulders but still grinned.

"No," he said. "Sorry. I just wanted to say hi."

"Yeah, okay, hi," Jeff said. "I'm Jeff, and Jeff doesn't like it—" Jeff stuck his face into Laughing Jack's and glared—the guy's eyes were white, now wasn't that dumb?—"when people barge into Jeff's room. Actually, Jeff just doesn't like people. So fuck off."

"But I'm not people," Laughing Jack protested.

"Jeff is talking in third person," BEN chipped in. "And it's scaring BEN."

"BEN better shut his face and take this guy on his tour," Jeff said. "Or Jeff is going to kill the guy _and_ BEN."

"Okay. Hey, Laughing Jack, let's go. There's a whole 'nother floor."

"Uh, yeah. Okay. Bye, Jeff," Laughing Jack said, grinning and following on BEN's heels.

Jeff snorted, then called, "Hey, BEN, where's my knife?"

"Still in the wall," BEN said. Jeff retrieved it, rubbed its blade off with his shirt, and slid it back into its sheath—a handy little thing. He used to be friends with this mechanic killer-guy and he'd whipped Jeff up a sheath he could hook onto his belt, so he could carry his knife with him everywhere. It made him feel a lot more secure, knowing no idiot could touch his baby while he was gone.

Once he was satisfied that his knife was comfortable, Jeff sprawled back on his bed and resumed staring at the ceiling. When he grew tired of that—which was quickly—he sharpened his knife, and then headed downstairs. In the living room, Masky and Hoodie were curled together, masks off. "New guy already marked?" Jeff asked.

Hoodie looked over at him and nodded. "Yeah. You meet him?"

"Yeah," Jeff said. He settled down at the other end of the couch and propped his feet in their laps.

Hoodie scowled at him but Masky kept mild eyes and pinched Jeff's toes until Jeff gave up and tucked his feet under himself. He considered _not_ giving in—a man's gotta keep his rank, you know, especially with a new guy around—but c'mon. Masky. He was about as threatening as a drowned and starving kitten. Jeff couldn't bring himself to be mean and Hoodie seemed to know that, too, because he wasn't looking worried. On the contrary, he yawned. Masky copied him a few seconds later and then Jeff's jaw popped when he followed suit. They were content to sit in companionable silence for the rest of a Spongebob episode.

BEN joined them somewhere near the middle of that episode, popped popcorn, and then stuffed himself between the Masky-Hoodie clump and Jeff. When Laughing Jack and Eyeless Jack entered the living room, stride for stride, they look at the couch and then BEN was setting up the floor with blankets and pillows. Jeff wasn't fond of the idea of laying on the floor, but BEN was convinced they needed to have a movie night and they needed to lay together on the floor. Jeff was sure this would lower his standing in the new guy's eyes, so he opted out and returned to his room. He dreamed about eyes that weren't there, and he woke to eyes that were—white and wide, hovering above his face, and the mouth beneath the eyes was speaking words Jeff hated.


	6. In Which People Are Hurt

"Jeff—hey, somebody's hurt," Laughing Jack said. Jeff sat, pushing on Laughing Jack's stomach to get him to step away from the bed so Jeff could get off of it and reach for his baby where it rested on his desk.

"What? Turn the damn light on," Jeff said, squinting at Laughing Jack's pale face.

"Yeah, sorry," Laughing Jack said, stepping to the light switch. Yellow swept over the room and Jeff lowered his head as his eyes protested the sudden irritation. "Eyeless Jack said to get you."

"What for? Who's hurt?"

"I dunno what's his name," Laughing Jack said. "Tony?"

"Toby?" Jeff asked, furrowing his brow. "How the hell's he hurt?"

Laughing Jack hopped from foot to foot, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. "I dunno. Eyeless Jack just said—"

Jeff heaved a sigh. "Good enough reason, then." He snapped a quick glare at the newbie. "One of the only good enough reasons, bastard. Wake me up for anything less and I'll carve your face up, and then I'll string your insides outside for decoration—keep 'em connected and see how long you live with them cooking in the sun."

"Right, okay. Are we going?"

"Patience of a saint," Jeff growled, pushing past him to the open doorway. He could hear voices before he reached the living room—a familiar, worried hum. There were at least ten people clustered in the living room. BEN was standing by the TV with two of his friends, his ears set back with fear. Smiledog was laying just inside the foyer, staring towards the couch, where the majority of the people were crowded. Eyeless Jack was closest to the couch, keeping a small space between it, its occupant, and the others. The corners of his mouth were drawn back, his lips pressed into a thin line, and the black gunk from his eye sockets stretched to the bottom of his jaw. "Eyeless," Jeff called, pushing his way through the people, who yielded easily. Eyeless's face whipped around to him and there was a relieved twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"Jeff," Eyeless sighed. "Finally. It's Toby."

"Yeah," Jeff said, looking down at the couch. Toby was sprawled out on his back, eyes closed and mouth hanging open, ragged breaths rushing in and out of it. Blood clotted in his hair and on his skin and clothes—a lot of blood, Jeff realized, his jaw clenching and his left hand jerking. Too much? No, not yet, or Eyeless wouldn't be standing around. "What's wrong with him? Where's Slender?"

"A lot's wrong with him, and Slender's out. Again." Eyeless's eye sockets narrowed. "Whatever. We can deal with it on our own. If these _idiots—"_ Eyeless whirled around to face the small crowd—"would give us some room."

"We can't leave him," one of them protested. "He's our friend."

"He's probably scared to death," said another. "And you're not helping."

"Yeah, you're just standing around."

"Yeah, man, move if you're not going to do anything."

"Slender's not here to make us listen to you anymore, is he?"

"Hey, he's _blind_ , isn't he? What the hell are we letting a blind guy operate for?"

"Enough," Jeff snarled, striking the nearest one across the face. The kid's head snapped to the side and he stumbled back. "Shut your fucking mouths and _get_ the fuck _out_." The group of boys hesitated—cowards—and Jeff pushed his advantage. He snagged the next kid by the shirt collar and hauled him forward until their foreheads pressed together and he was sure the boy could feel the leather of his skin. He smiled, dropped his voice. "Did you _fucking_ hear me?"

The boy kicked him in the shin. Jeff jerked his head and his free hand back, cracking his knuckles across the boy's jaw. He heard a distinct crack as the bones in the boy's neck protested and Jeff released his shirt. He hoped the boy'd have hell of whiplash. One of the others jumped at his back and Jeff felt fingers tangle in his t-shirt. He pulled his knife out and spun, slashing blindly. The second boy screeched and jumped back, clutching his face. The others began moving and Jeff felt a natural, savage instinct settle into his bones. He'd kill them all, the cocky asses.

"That's _enough_ ," Eyeless bellowed, grabbing Jeff's shoulder and freezing the small confrontation.

"Who says?" the boy Jeff backhanded demanded, worming his way to the front of the crowd.

" _I_ do," Eyeless said. "Slender put me in charge. When he gets back you'll have hell to pay if you don't listen—and especially if you kill each other or let Toby to die. So get your asses to bed."

"This bastard hit us—look't Josh's face," one of the others snapped.

"Yeah," Josh, the kid with the cut face, agreed.

"I'll make it much fucking worse," Jeff suggested.

"Yes, he will," Eyeless confirmed. "He's got full power to act and Slender'll acknowledge I gave it to him. Now go clean your face up and get to bed. I know you're worried—but that's no excuse to act like brats. Toby'll be fine. I've done hundreds of operations before."

"How many people survive your operations?" a boy grumbled, but Jeff could see their surrender in the sagging of their shoulders, the loosening of their eyes.

"Approximately eighty percent," Eyeless said. The boys looked rather unhappy with those odds. "He'll be fine. We've had worse. Now go. BEN, you and your friends too, and take the dog with you. Laughing Jack, do you remember where Masky and Hoodie's room is? Good. Go and get Hoodie, and Masky, if he wants to come along. Thank you." When everyone had dispersed, Eyeless Jack rubbed some of the black slime off onto his shirtsleeve and exhaled. "Man," he said.

"Mm," Jeff agreed. "Newbies suck."

"Too many of them at once," Eyeless said. "They're not assimilating well. Maybe we should talk to Slender. I mean, I've putting it off—it's not like anyone's died or anything, but the problem with a reactive society is that—well, it's reactive. Someone shouldn't have to die before we act but—think on it later. Help me with Toby."

After some debate, they moved Toby onto the floor, unwilling to carry him upstairs to the bedrooms. Most of his clothes had already been removed, but Jeff helped Eyeless strip off his bloody t-shirt and pants. Eyeless clicked unhappily when they saw the damage. "Bullet," he muttered.

There was a wide, gaping hole just underneath Toby's ribs on his right side. "At least it exited," Jeff said.

"Yeah. But there's another one in his leg I think might be lodged in the bone. Entry but no exit."

"That sucks."

"We'll work on this one first—Hoodie, hey," Eyeless said, looking over at the staircase, "come over here. It's Toby."

Hoodie knelt beside them, his face creasing in worry. "Shot?"

"Yeah," Jeff said.

"Alright, Jeff—you come hold him still. Hoodie, hand me things when I ask for them." Eyeless situated himself at Toby's right side. They placed a towel under him and then cleaned the wound—Eyeless said they could do more later, but the primary concern at this point was the bleeding. They sewed the wound up—Eyeless said they'd have to watch close for infection, but he didn't want to leave it open. Toby was still, for the most part, although he still occasionally twitched. As Eyeless worked, Jeff brushed Toby's hair away from his face, annoyed when it clung stubbornly to the skin. After placing a bandage with antibiotic ointment over the wound they flipped him onto his stomach. Toby remained unconscious and Jeff stuffed a pillow underneath him, for whatever good it might do.

Eyeless examined the small entry wound in the back of Toby's calf. "Yeah," he sighed, after a moment. "It's lodged in there. I'm not gonna try to take it out now, though. He shouldn't be up and walking for a little while anyways." They poured disinfectant into the wound before putting a butterfly bandage on it and rearranging Toby onto the couch. Hoodie and Jeff rubbed the filth off of his body while Eyeless packed up his instruments.

Toby was never conscious enough to speak clearly with them, although for the first hour he alternated mumbling and sleeping lightly. By the second hour he began sleeping soundly, and Eyeless sent Hoodie to bed but had Jeff sit vigil with him.

"I think," Eyeless said, still looking at Toby's face, soft as it was in sleep, "that we really need to talk to Slender."


	7. In Which There is Conversation and a Newbie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've finally got wifi at my house--which means more regular updates! Thanks for reading :)

Jeff was against it at first. It seemed like a stupid thing to do. They'd never questioned Slender before, and he'd never led them wrong. So, as was his wont, Jeff protested. "Why? Slender didn't—I mean, this wasn't his fault. Toby was on a job," he said, shrugging halfheartedly. "Shit happens sometimes."

Eyeless's swiped angrily at his black slime. "It was a faulty job. Slender would never send us to work there if he knew they had guns."

"Maybe he didn't know."

"And that's the problem," Eyeless said, turning earnestly towards him. "He used to be so—so careful about it. He used to, you know, act a little bit concerned. And now all he cares about is more, more, more murderers for the Mansion. It's not fair-to us or the newbies. And I wanna know why. C'mon, don't you?"

"Well, yeah," Jeff said. "But it's not really our place—"

"I'm not saying we usurp him or anything," Eyeless said, scoffing. It he had eyes, Jeff bet they would have been rolling. "I just feel like maybe he'll think this all through a little better if we talk to him, especially since Toby's like this."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Jeff muttered. "I wouldn't listen if I was him."

"Well, no," Eyeless said. "You're Jeff. I think Slender's a little more reasonable."

"It's a distinct possibility."

"So we'll talk to him?"

"I'll do whatever you think's best," Jeff said, leaning back against the couch. "You know that."

"Yeah," Eyeless said. He offered Jeff a quiet smile, which was gladly accepted and returned. "I know. And thanks."

Jeff grunted. "Even if you're a blind guy."

"Oh, shut up," Eyeless said, pushing lightly on Jeff's head until he ducked it and batted the gray hand away.

"So when's Slender gettin' back?"

"Dunno." Eyeless shrugged. "He marked Laughing Jack and left again. At least by morning."

"What if he doesn't come back?" Jeff asked.

"I figure between you, me, and all the good kids we should be able to control things here for a little while."

"You think the newbies'll start something?"

"Beats me," Eyeless sighed. "Wouldn't put it past them, though. Keep a close eye, and you've got my permission to cut any of them you need to."

"Permission received," Jeff said, voice brightening. Eyeless shook his head helplessly.

When the living room started to lighten into shades of gray, Jeff left Eyeless to watch Toby while he rummaged through the fridge. What he found annoyed him immensely. There was, like, nothing. And then it gave him a little hope. "Eyeless, you think maybe Slender was getting food for us?"

"What? He doesn't usually. That's a proxy thing."

"I know, but we're almost out. Maybe he went stealing."

"Hope you're right," Eyeless said. "Is there at least enough for breakfast?"

"Not for fifteen boys," Jeff answered.

"First come first serve."

"Read my mind." Jeff set to making all the food he could find, so the fridge and cabinets would be empty when Slender came back to fill them again. He fried up their last half-package of bacon, scrambled five eggs, toasted twelve pieces of bread, set out the last one-fourth full bucket of butter, along with the almost-full carton of grape juice (because no one drank it but Toby. It was gross) and the almost-empty orange juice bottle, the little bit of peanut butter and jelly they had, a box of Saltine crackers, and threw out an empty milk carton because idiots needed to stop putting empty things back into the fridge. While he set things out he could hear Eyeless speaking quietly to BEN. It wasn't but a few minutes later BEN slunk into the kitchen, Smiledog trotting on his heels.

"Morning, sunshine," Jeff said, looking over BEN's mussed, grumpy countenance.

"Stupid dog kept me up all night. Wouldn't stop moving around," BEN huffed.

"Eat," Jeff said. "Before the others come down."

"Jeff, watch Toby for a sec," Eyeless said. Jeff did. Eyeless went upstairs and returned with Masky, Hoodie, and Laughing Jack, who he herded into the kitchen. When Jeff raised an eyebrow, Eyeless said, "Just making sure they stay healthy, in case we need them. Oh, and the new guy was in Masky and Hoodie's room. No, perv, nothing like that. He's afraid of the dark or something."

"You're kidding?"

"I'm sorry to say I'm not."

Rolling his eyes, Jeff grabbed a plate of food from the kitchen, a glass of grape juice because that's all that was left, and a glass of water. He settled himself back in the living room and gave Eyeless the water before starting in on his own breakfast. He had almost finished and was finding himself quite content, belly warm and full, with the sounds of peaceful chatter from the kitchen and Toby's slow breathing in his ears, when the front door opened.

Eyeless's head snapped that way, his nostrils flaring and eye sockets growing with surprise. "Slender and a stranger," he said. Raising his voice, he called, "Masky, Hoodie, get your masks on or stay in the kitchen. Jeff, you go in there with them, I'm gonna go get my mask."

"What about Toby?" Jeff said, his body already poised to move but still hovering over their injured friend.

"Shit," Eyeless said. He bounced nervously on his feet. "I dunno, I dunno—man, it's times like these I really wish we could talk to Slender first. Dammit. No, don't move him. Just—aw, crap, just stay here."

"But—"

"I know," Eyeless snapped. "They're not supposed to see us. Do—"

Slender entered the room, ducking through the doorway—and in his arms was a body and a face that stuffed dread down Jeff's throat and froze him stiff. A brave face easy with sleep, chestnut hair and eyes Jeff knew were a steady, calm green. _No, no, you can't be serious,_ he thought. His chest started to rise and fall faster and his fists clenched. _Fucking no._


	8. In Which There is Challenge

"Slender," Eyeless said, "man, can't you warn us?"

_You're up early,_ Slender said. _I expected you to be—is that Toby? What happened? Jeffrey—is something wrong with him too?_

"No—ah, I didn't think so," Eyeless said. "Jeff? What?"

Jeff could hear them, in his head and against his eardrums, but he couldn't make himself see them. All he could see was that face, lax against Slender's chest, hair falling limp and lank, with a morbid pink smile angled at them—but that's not the only face he saw. He saw another face—bright-eyed, clever, courageous. A face that shouldn't have been in this world. A face that deserved so much fucking better than this world. _Jeffrey?_ Slender asked. _Do you know him? I thought you might. This looks like your work._

Jeff looked down, focusing on the carpet. His left hand shivered. A foreign feeling was welling in his heart—had he ever felt this before? It didn't feel familiar, but he knew what they called it. _Grief._ Such a small word for such a disabling emotion. He hadn't felt it when his family was gone, because why should he? He had sent them all to a better place, a place where they couldn't lie and wouldn't be lied to. Liu, especially, deserved that much. Sure, Jeff had missed his brother, his partner in crime, his best friend—but he wasn't selfish, so Liu had gone too. _But he hadn't._ Jeff bore his teeth, gritting them together, and he felt his eyes prick. _He stayed. He stayed in this fucking world. He suffered. Because of_ me. _Because I didn't do my job. Liu—Liu, God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Fuck. Fuck, you don't deserve to be here._

Eyeless grabbed his shoulder and tugged it. Jeff spun around and knocked his hand away. "Fuck off," he growled, although it sounded watery. He rubbed angrily at his eyes, flinching when he touched their delicate surfaces _but you know what? He fucking deserves it. His poor brother._

"The hell's wrong with you?" Eyeless asked. "You know him?"

"Of course I know him," Jeff snapped. Liu's older, his face sharper, but Jeff couldn't ever mistake him. Not after thirteen years of seeing it regularly, not after seeing the same bone structure peering back at him from the mirror on a day-to-day basis. Not ever.

_Did you try to kill him?_ Slender asked.

_Yes,_ Jeff said. _Shit, yes. But I fucked it up._

"Guys?" BEN's voice came from the kitchen. "Is it okay?"

"It's okay," Eyeless called. "It's just Slender and a newbie. He's out, though, so you can all come in here."

And then Jeff realized something, and he was happy to have a new target for the too-big emotion in his body. "And you didn't bring food back," he hissed at Slender, hunching his shoulders and leaning forward on his toes. As petty as it was, it became the target for the anger he fostered to kill off these things that side-slammed him. How else did you deal with the heavy, impossible creature winding itself around his spine, and his shoulders, and his head and everywhere. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

He couldn't tell if Slender was surprised, but his words, when they came, were stiffer than usual. _Do not question me,_ he said. _I think you should go to your room and rest. You were up all night with Toby, weren't you? You, too, Eyeless._

_Okay,_ Eyeless thought, and turned to disappear up the stairs, but paused when Jeff didn't follow. "Jeff," he said, looking back.

_You can't just tell me to go to my room,_ Jeff thought. _Don't you think we fucking deserve to know why you're suddenly treating us like this? Don't—_

_Room,_ Slender thought. Jeff could feel the prickling in his mind, Slender hooking his claws further inside, a warning. It hadn't been like this for a long time. But now—Jeff ignored the warning.

_No. We don't have any more fucking room in this Mansion, we don't have any food, we're not getting jobs, and you_ keep _bringing more people in. What's the deal? What game are you playing?_ Slender's shadowy tentacles reared up behind him. _Puffing,_ Jeff thought, scowling at him. _Posturing. You think I don't realize that? You think I'm stupid, don't you? I'm_ not. _Look at Toby. Look what happened because of your—_

_Silence._ The voice in his head was like the crack of a whip, sudden and sharp. With it came punishment, pain, the driving of nails into his mind. _Go to your room. We will speak later._

Jeff slunk to his room—like he had a fucking choice—his fury and betrayal and grief boiling together until he couldn't tell which caused which or if they were even different. He could feel multiple pairs of eyes on his back, scorching, and he knew Liu was still smiling at him with that damn pink scar. When he reached his room he slammed the door shut and felt Slender's presence retreat from his mind, more completely than ever before until he felt _alone_ , and grief seared him anew. He bullied it away.

_Whatever_ , he thought, _fuck them. This is all their fault._ But it wasn't. He knew that. He swallowed the understanding like a bitter gray pill. He'd fucked everything up. _But that's not unusual,_ he thought, curling up on his bed. _Is it, you fucker?_

Jeff decided he hated the feeling of grief. He lay on his bed, staring outside his window towards the forest, watching as it grew lighter and lighter. He heard voices and movement outside and he wanted to see Toby, but he hadn't been given permission to leave, so he moped. About Toby, and Liu, and how he had snapped at Eyeless, and how empty his head was without Slender's steady pressure there. Jeff was under no delusion that he was his own again, but now even the parasite in his skull was avoiding him. He wallowed in self-pity when he started getting hungry—not that it mattered, because there was no food anyway. And he didn't even have his phone. Stupid Smiledog'd carried it off somewhere a week ago.

Jeff wasn't sure what time it was when there was a strange knock on his door. Only, to his knowledge, six people knocked on his door, and all of their knocks sounded specific. This one wasn't Eyeless's, or Masky's or Hoodie's or BEN's or Slender's or Toby's—not that Jeff thought Toby would be up and knocking on Jeff's door. It wasn't quite as timid as Masky's or Hoodie's, but it wasn't as confident as Eyeless's. It was a double-tap. Simply for the sake of curiosity—because no way did he want anyone around him right now, they all sucked—he said, "Come in."

Laughing Jack stuck his head inside. Jeff furrowed his brow. "Hey," Laughing Jack said, his voice soft. Coward.

"Whaddaya want?" Jeff asked, looking back out the window. And here he'd been hoping it was something semi exciting.

"Just wanted to tell you Toby woke up. Eyeless Jack says he's doing okay."

"Great, grand. Now go away." When Laughing Jack hesitated Jeff pounced on it. He couldn't have the newbie thinking he was weak just because Slender bossed him around, could he? "When I tell you to do something, you do it," he snapped, rolling off of his bed and onto his feet. "That's the way things work around here. Understand, or is it too difficult of a concept for you?" Jeff sneered, pulling his baby from its sheath.

"Yeah, yeah," Laughing Jack said. "I get it. I just—"

"You just nothing." Jeff waved his knife, admiring the way the sunshine from the window flashed off the blade. His knife was so pretty-pretty. They made a fine team, the two of them. Pretty _and_ fatal. "Haul ass."

"I will, just—"

"Damn, you're stubborn," Jeff said, and then he launched himself at Laughing Jack, who reeled back and out of his room. Jeff cut to a stop before he hit the doorway and glared at him. "Fucking coward."

"I just wanted to know if you were okay," Laughing Jack said. "And so did the others. They just didn't want to bother you." The clown grimaced. "I can see why. You're a mean little guy, aren't you? So are you okay?"

"I'm fucking great," Jeff said. "Peachy. Now why don't you listen to me?"

"Well I _will—_ "

"You're _not_."

"I'm not done talking," Laughing Jack huffed.

"You don't get to pick when we're done talking." Jeff pointed his knife and glared at the door, wondering why the hell it couldn't open in instead of out, so he could shut it in Laughing Jack's face.

"No, but I get to pick when _I'm_ done talking."

"Not if I wasn't stuck in here you wouldn't. You wouldn't have a fucking tongue to talk with, you bitch."

"You _are_ really mean," Laughing Jack said.

Jeff stared at him. "You're kidding? Of course I'm fucking mean. I'm a serial killer. Or haven't you noticed?" This guy was killing him, really. Jeff hadn't been aware that there was such a level of stupidity.

"I noticed, but nobody else is this mean."

Jeff rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips. "Cry me a river. And float away on it, if you really wanna make me happy."

Laughing Jack's mouth twitched into a half-smile that made Jeff furious. "No can do. How'd you know that new guy?"

"How long are you gonna stay here?"

"Dunno, I'm kinda having fun. You seem irritated."

"Fuck you." Jeff itched to close the distance between them, to cut flesh and smell blood. To prove himself, to make himself unbearably clear— _he_ was in charge, not the idiot. But there was no way to do that, no way to get rid of this domineering anger. No, because Slender had locked in him his room with his grief and his rage and no way to get rid of it. What clever punishment. Jeff felt the urge to laugh, his chest hitching, but he swallowed it down. He'd never realized how sadistic Slender could be. He should have.

Laughing Jack's eyes widened. "Hey, though, that guy's okay. He's been marked now."

Breath rushed between Jeff's teeth and a fine tremor seized his body. "No."

"Uh, yeah," Laughing Jack said. "Isn't that a...good thing?"

" _No,_ it's _not,_ " Jeff said, clutching his head. "You know what, you just made this whole situation suck more. Please go away."

Laughing Jack's eyes were confused and concerned and Jeff wasn't certain he'd ever hated anyone so much as he did Laughing Jack in that moment. Acting like he fucking cared just to get a rise—fuck him. Jeff whirled and threw himself back on his bed, yanking his blanket over his head. He wasn't sure how long Laughing Jack stood there before he left, but he never said a word, and when Jeff looked back over his door was shut and the clown was gone.


	9. In Which There Are Conversations

Slender came to talk with him the next morning. He brought, to Jeff's disgust, a plate of pancakes. Jeff was sure Slender meant to torment him with them, so he rolled over to face the wall when the monster sat on his bed. _Jeffrey,_ he began, and Jeff couldn't stop the sudden relief that bounced into his ribcage when he realized Slender was back in his head.

_What?_ Jeff asked, looking stubbornly at the wall.

_You must be hungry._

_Of course I am._

_I brought breakfast._

_Oh, you're actually going to let me eat it?_ Jeff asked, the thought stiff and sarcastic.

Slender's shoulders sagged some. _Yes, of course. If you'll sit up._ Jeff paused, then sighed and sat, reaching for the plate. Slender relinquished it immediately. _I am not sorry about yesterday._

_Okay?_

_You should know better than to act so childishly, and you know how a leader has to respond to challenges,_ Slender thought. Jeff thought about getting angry, but he was still tired from all the emotions yesterday and the pancakes really were good. He didn't like fighting with Slender, anyways. It really wasn't worth it. _I am, however, sorry that I made you and Eyeless believe I cared less for you._

_You talked to Eyeless?_

_I did. He told me your concerns._

Jeff shrugged. _Stupid, I know. But we've never—you know, been out of food before._

_It's not stupid, Jeffrey. I was remiss in my attentions. There have been...things going on, but—_

_What things?_ Jeff asked, looking up from his sticky plate.

_Nothing for you to concern yourself about,_ Slender said.

_But we could—_

_Jeffrey._

_Sorry._

_It's alright. Simply things that have been requiring my attention. I went out last night and the kitchen has been fully restocked. I have apologized to Toby and I have also had one of the storage rooms turned into a room for Liu,_ Slender said. Jeff cringed at the name. _About that. You know him, don't you?_

_Yeah,_ Jeff said, swirling his fork around through the syrup. _He's, um, he's my brother._

Slender nodded. _I wondered. You look alike. In stature, anyhow. What happened?_

Jeff sighed and settled back against the wall. _I, uh, tried to kill him with him my parents, because he—he didn't deserve to fucking stay here. But—but I guess I fucked up, because he's still here. Is he okay?_

_Doing well,_ Slender said. _He doesn't know you're here. Are you going to say hello to him?_

_I dunno,_ Jeff thought. _He probably hates me. I don't blame him._

_We'll see how things go. Come, let's go downstairs. I wanted to tell you that you were allowed out of your room, too._

_Gee, thanks,_ Jeff said, trotting after Slender. Once they were downstairs, Slender went towards his office and Jeff headed for the kitchen. He set his plate next to the sink and then sat in the coffee room to enjoy the morning light. Eyeless was already there and greeted him with a cautious smile. "Hey."

"Hey," Jeff said. And that was their entire conversation, but the quiet that followed was peaceful. When Eyeless finished browsing the newspaper, which Jeff occasionally peeked at over his shoulder, they headed out to the living room. They found Masky and Hoodie on the couch again, tucked next to Toby and watching BEN and Laughing Jack play Xbox. Laughing Jack was losing by a large margin, but he didn't seem to mind overly much. He even flashed Eyeless and Jeff a grin when he noticed them—creep.

"Heyyyy, Jeffy, Eye," Toby greeted them, smiling broadly.

"Hey, brat," Jeff said, sprawling out on the second couch.

"Hey. How are you feeling?" Eyeless asked.

"Same as always," Toby said. "Fine and dandy."

"Stay off the leg," Eyeless said.

"But it doesn't—uh, sir, yes, sir." Looking away from Eyeless, Toby scoffed at the TV. "Oh, come on, Laugh, you play like a three-year-old."

"I second," BEN chirruped. "You suck."

"Thanks ever so much," Laughing Jack muttered, randomly smashing buttons on his controller.

The content of their morning lasted until about ten o'clock, when Liu decided to make his appearance. Jeff had expected it—the thought had been sitting, heavy and jumpy in his stomach, for most of the morning. Unfortunately, the others were good at forming a distraction with video games and short spats and Toby's regaling of his failed job, so when Liu entered the living room Jeff was completely unprepared.

He got a couple seconds to see Liu's face, almost like he remembered it. Green eyes flitted around the room, a smile (he was nervous, Jeff recognized the shape of his mouth) on his face. And then, before Liu could even speak his good morning, the same green eyes landed on Jeff. Jeff thought he himself looked pretty scared—his face felt like it looked scared, anyway—but he thought Liu may have looked more terrified than him.

Jeff worked his jaw helplessly for a minute, then said, in a short rush of breath, "Hey, good morning, come in."

Liu shook his head—more a sign of disbelief than refusal—and looked over Jeff's head at Eyeless. "Is he here?" Liu asked.

The room had fallen silent, except for the music coming from the Xbox game, so when Eyeless answered it seemed unbearably loud. "Jeff? Yeah, he's here. Do you know each other?"

Liu wavered on his feet—his face, Jeff thought, was almost as white as Jeff's own. His jaw worked itself uselessly, much like Jeff's had seconds prior, before he said, voice rough and quavering, "Yeah."

"Liu," Jeff said, twisting around on the couch until he could fully face his brother. He saw Liu stiffen, saw his legs twitch, and felt a flash of hot guilt. When they were little, Liu had never been scared of anything—and now he was scared of Jeff. "It's okay. I'm not—I mean, I—"

"No," Liu said, rubbing the side of his head and mussing the hair there. "I can't—" He shook his head again, his eyes straying everywhere but near Jeff. "Later. Bye."

And then Liu was gone, fleeing with the speed of a chased hare and Jeff was bouncing between sorrow and embarrassment, because the entire room was staring at him. "What was that?" Eyeless asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," Jeff muttered, folding his arms across his chest and slouching back into the couch cushions. "Quit staring at me," he snapped, when several pairs of questioning eyes remained unabashedly focused on him. After he spoke they swiveled away, but the room was still quiet. Jeff hated it.

Eyeless nudged his leg and Jeff tore his gaze away from the carpet to glare. _Talk later?_ Eyeless mouthed. Jeff shrugged and looked at the TV, where Laughing Jack was still losing to BEN by a tragic margin. After a few more minutes he finally seemed to catch onto the fact that he wouldn't ever beat BEN—nobody did—and groaned, flopping onto his back and tipping his head back to look at the couches. "Anybody else wanna play?" he asked.

BEN copied him and grinned. "You still totally suck."

"I know."

"I'll play," Toby said, stretching out his hand for a controller. After looking at Eyeless for permission, Laughing Jack handed Toby the controller and crawled onto the second couch between Eyeless and Jeff.

"How do you know that guy?" he asked, looking at Jeff.

"You have all the tact of a...horse," Jeff decided.

"Curiosity killed the cat, and _I_ killed the cat, so I figure me and Curiosity are the same thing," Laughing Jack said. Jeff shook his head—idiots were impossible to understand, and he feared if he tried he would hurt himself—and resumed staring at the TV. Laughing Jack let it go for about three seconds. "Soooo...how do you know him?" Jeff ignored him. "Is it something personal?" Jeff flicked his eyes upwards. _I will not stab him, I will not stab—_ "Did you try to kill him?"— _I will stab him. I will stab him as soon as we're alone._ "He looked kind of like he tried to have a smile like yours—" _Very hard. In the face._

"Laughing Jack," Eyeless said. Laughing Jack looked over at him. "I'd leave him alone about it. He's got a hell of a temper and a hell of a knife if you stir it up."

"Thank you," Jeff said, rubbing the handle of said knife.

"He doesn't seem as mad as he did yesterday," Laughing Jack observed, glancing back at Jeff.

"No, but he's not stuck in his room today, either, so I'd watch your mouth," Eyeless suggested.

"I was only asking—"

"You don't _only ask_ stupid things like that," Jeff said.

"Well how'm I supposed to know anything if I don't?" Laughing Jack asked.

"Same way everyone else does. You watch and you mimic and you respect your elders," Jeff said.

Laughing Jack lifted an eyebrow. "I'm fairly certain I'm much older than you."

"Yeah? How old are you?"

"Two hundred thirty-one years."

"Fuck that, I'm serious," Jeff said, narrowing his eyes.

"So am I," Laughing Jack said, grinning. "I'm not people, remember?"

"He's being serious," Eyeless confirmed. "He's not human."

"And how old are you, Mr. Elder?" Laughing Jack asked, jabbing Jeff's shoulder.

"Do not touch me," Jeff warned, whacking Laughing Jack's hand away.

The clown drew his hand to his chest and looked at it before returning his dumb white eyes to Jeff. "Alright, touche. So how old're you?"

"Doesn't matter, I've still been here longer than you, so I still have authority."

"He's got a thing about authority," Eyeless added. "I wouldn't argue with it."

"Well I wasn't really planning on it," Laughing Jack said.

"Good, because I'll kill you," Jeff said. "It goes like this—" Jeff held a finger up—"listen to Slender first—" a second finger—"then Eyeless—" a third finger—"and then me. Beneath that, you can sort out your own place. I don't give a shit where you end up."

"Good to know," Laughing Jack said.

"Yes, it is. Now since we've sorted that out—you don't ask me stupid questions."

"How am I supposed to know if they're stupid?"

"Huh, that's right. You don't have common sense." Jeff shuffled irritably away from Laughing Jack, pressing himself further into the couch arm, and glared at the TV screen, where BEN was still winning. Laughing Jack seemed about to respond, but he shut his mouth after a second and began egging Toby on.


	10. In Which There is Lunch and Liu

It was lunchtime when Jeff saw Liu again. It had been his and Eyeless's day to cook lunch, so Liu caught him looking like a housewife. It had always been a joke in the Mansion to wear aprons and chef hats when it was your cooking day, so Slender had bought them all their very own aprons and hats. Jeff's apron was white with little red splatters and "Killer Chef" written across it—his hat was matching, white with red. Needless to say, Jeff was mortified when Liu entered the kitchen. It was some condolence that Liu looked surprised, so Jeff assumed his brother wasn't cornering him in the kitchen, where there were lots of potential weapons to kill each other with.

Eyeless sneezed, making them both jump. "Sorry," he muttered. "This smells like pepper, though. Or is it paprika? Jeff?"

"Oh, you know which one it is. Don't distract me," Jeff said. "Hey, Liu."

"Snappy much?" Eyeless said. "Hi, Liu."

"Hey," Liu said.

"Jeff assumes I can smell everything—I mean, mostly I can, but would you mind confirming that this is pepper?" Eyeless held up a little pepper shaker.

Liu nodded, caught himself, and said, "Yeah."

Eyeless smiled. "Thanks. Jeff, you should be more like Liu. Notice how polite he is."

"I'm polite," Jeff protested.

Eyeless laughed. Liu's shoulders seemed to relax some and Jeff couldn't help but admire how smoothly Eyeless handled people. How he did it without even seeing their body language, Jeff had no idea—or maybe he could smell their emotions? Now that would be weird. Discarding the thought, Jeff grabbed the pepper from Eyeless and set it on the counter. "We don't even need pepper."

"Ah, we don't? I thought for sure the recipe—"

"It said garlic pepper, not just pepper," Jeff sighed.

"I can't read."

"I _told_ you the recipe. Here, you watch—listen to this boil," Jeff said, shuffling around Eyeless to the spice cabinet and pulling out what they needed.

"Liu, could you start the bacon?" Eyeless asked. "It's in the fridge. Jeff, show him where it is."

Jeff stiffened, almost protested, decided that would make things more awkward, and cautiously stepped to the fridge. He pulled out a packet of bacon and stretched it out to Liu, who refused to look at him but gingerly accepted the pack and took a place on the other side of Eyeless. "Oh, or were you doing something?" Eyeless asked Liu—like the thought had just occurred to him. Tricky bastard.

"Um, not really," Liu said. "Just looking for Jack."

"Which one?" Eyeless asked.

"Laughing," Liu said, his mouth twitching up just the littlest bit.

"Newbies gotta stick together, huh?" Eyeless said. "Jeff, the pasta feels squishy." Eyeless scooped out a piece with the spoon and held it towards Jeff.

"Yep," Jeff said.

"Now we drain it?"

"Now we drain it," Jeff agreed. Eyeless took the pasta to the sink, leaving an empty space between Jeff and Liu. Jeff didn't look at Liu, and Liu didn't look at Jeff. Jeff loathed the fact that he ever had to be this nervous around his brother. It wasn't how things were supposed to be. But here they were, both of them wolves turned rabbits because of a fucking stupid mistake. It was an enormous relief when Eyeless stepped between them again.

"Well this is pleasantly awkward," Eyeless commented.

"Isn't it though?" Liu murmured. "How done does the bacon need to be?"

"Most of them like it crispy, and the others can suck it up," Eyeless said. "Twelve pieces should be good."

Jeff grabbed the pot of pasta and dumped it into the mixing bowl, stirring it with the other ingredients.

"So Jeff told me you guys are brothers," Eyeless said. Jeff stirred more irritably. Of course he would bring it up, he just couldn't leave it alone. Liu kept his silence. "So you are?" Eyeless pushed.

"I guess," Liu said.

"Why guess? Parents sleep around a lot?"

Liu snorted. "No. I just—I don't know anymore."

"I thought we were brothers," Jeff said quietly, eyes focused on the mixing bowl.

"Are we?" Liu asked.

Jeff peeked around Eyeless, who leaned back some. Liu was still focused on the sizzling bacon, but his eyes were distant and tired. "Of course you are," Eyeless said. "You don't get to pick your blood."

"I don't think—that's not what we mean, Eye," Jeff said.

"Well what do you mean?"

"Brothers are supposed to take care of each other," Liu said. "Protect each other—we didn't. Both of us fucked it up. Here, bacon."

Eyeless took the five slices that were done and began tearing them into little pieces, which he threw into Jeff's mixing bowl. "Well just 'cause you fucked something up doesn't mean you can't fix it."

"He's not even Jeff anymore," Liu said, his tone darkening.

"He's got a point," Jeff said. "I'm not really that Jeff anymore."

"Is Liu exactly like he was five years ago?" Eyeless asked.

"No," Jeff and Liu said together.

"Then New Liu and New Jeff can still be brothers."

"If only it was that simple," Liu sighed. "Look, Eyeless, I appreciate the concern but I just don't think either of us wants to be brothers again."

"I kind of do," Jeff said.

"Neither of us could _stand_ to be brothers again."

"Probably not," Jeff said. "Are you going to kill me?"

"I feel like I should be the one asking you that," Liu said. "I don't think so."

"Okay. I don't think I'll kill you either," Jeff said. "I'll have to think about it."

"Wow, what a comfort," Liu muttered. "More bacon."

"This was not the end I wanted to achieve," Eyeless commented. "I'm not letting it go."

"Okay," Jeff said.

"Right," Liu said.

"Jeff, I don't think you should kill Liu," Eyeless said.

Jeff opened his mouth to say that he couldn't decide that he wouldn't, because he still hated that his brother was living in this fucked world, but then—well, then Liu would know why Jeff murdered their family. Jeff wasn't sure why that thought was rebuffing—shouldn't he have wanted to explain himself? So maybe Liu would understand?—but it was. And then, after a second, he realized why it was. Liu would call him insane, think he was mental. He _wasn't._ And he didn't—he didn't want Liu to think that. Ever. Even though he probably already did. But Jeff wouldn't give him any more reason to focus on.

Hell, there was already so much to talk about. Did Liu kill people? Would Liu _understand_ his reason? Did they have the same reasoning? Was Liu lying when he said he wouldn't kill Jeff? Why had he agreed to become a proxy? _Could_ they be brothers, if they both understood killing? Could they work together? To answer Eyeless, Jeff shrugged and said, "I probably won't."

"Okay, I order you not to kill Liu."

Jeff grinned. "Slender's already done that. I can't say how much of a difference it'll make."

Eyeless shook his head. "Don't make me beat you, boy. Is that done?"

"Yeah," Jeff said, hefting the bowl off of the counter. "Now we chill it for an hour, right?"

"You tell me. I still can't read." Eyeless grabbed the recipe book and threw it back on top of the fridge. "Probably, though."

The rest of the day was actually pretty good. They ate lunch outside—they even brought Toby with them—in the summer sunshine, and they did the same thing with dinner, although they dumped bug spray all over themselves before they did. After dinner they ate a chocolate cake Masky and BEN made, and sprawled out in the living room—all of sixteen (Slender included, but minus one of the newbies, who was out on a job) of them—and watched movies late into the night. Slender disappeared sometime after the second movie, but Jeff didn't think much of it. And that, as mundane as it was, was the last good time in the Mansion.


	11. In Which They Walk Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everybody had a Merry Christmas! Last post of 2014. See you guys next year!

Jeff woke up to a voice in his head. _Get up. Pack your things at once—clothes, weapons, what food you can get, but you will travel lightly. Two bags, at most. Quickly and quietly. Wake no one else and come to my office._

_Slender?_ Jeff asked, sitting and reaching for his knife. Slender didn't answer him. _Are we hearing things?_

"Jeff—"

Jeff jerked, tightened his fingers around his baby, and shot his gaze towards his door, where an unfamiliar voice emanated from. The figure he saw sitting beside the door set anger on his shoulders. "Laughing Jack? What the _fuck_ are you doing in my room?" he hissed through his teeth, trying to slow his heart.

"Maskie and Hoodie kicked me out of theirs," Laughing Jack whispered. "But did you hear that too? Slenderman?"

"Yeah," Jeff said, his anger fading in the light of confusion and curiosity, his thoughts chasing after possibilities like dogs with ADD. Jeff hopped off his bed and glowered at the newbie, where he sat with a blanket and a pillow."Get out and go get your stuff." He herded Laughing Jack out of his room and into the hallway. "Hurry up."

Laughing Jack headed down the hallway, dragging his blanket like a child, and Jeff ducked back into his room. He stuffed clothes and his hoodies into his duffel bag, along with a blanket and pillow. All the while his mind spun. Was Slender sending them on a big job? An urgent one? Or had the cops found them? The thought poured anxiety down Jeff's spine and he hauled his bag over his shoulder and jogged to the stairs. He met BEN on the way and fell into step with him. Eyeless, Masky, and Hoodie were already in the kitchen when Jeff and BEN arrived, and they all worked in careful silence to pass the food out. Laughing Jack and Toby, who was leaning heavily on him, were the last to arrive, and after their bags were filled, they all hurried back up the stairs. They slunk down the hallway, steps quiet on the carpet, and Jeff thought irritably, _Feels like we're criminals in our own house—which is a criminal house. Not fucking cool._

Slender opened his door for them when they reached it and ushered them all inside. He didn't look...happy. Not that he ever looked like anything, but whatever he looked like it was making the knot in Jeff's stomach tighten. They clumped together and watched as he sat behind his desk and folded his hands before him. He also seemed...cold. Distant. Jeff felt his nerves sparking. _Good._ Slender thought to them. _You will be leaving tonight._ Their group shifted but passed no word among themselves. Leaving wasn't unusual, if something unexpected popped up. Usually never in a group so large, but—well, who were they to question Slender? Most of them had yet to reach adulthood. _And you will not come back._ This time their group froze and furious, confused whispering broke out until Slender thought, sinking his claws into their minds, _Silence. You will obey._

_What?_ Jeff thought—not to Slender, but to himself, as a stunned kind of dis-reality fogged in his head. That fog was readily burned away by rage when he realized Slender was dead serious. BEN latched onto his arm and the rage flared higher, until it _was_ his reality. Maybe if Slender had just hurt him—but hurting his entire _family._ He could see his knife between Slender's ribs. It probably wouldn't amount to much, but it would be fun. It would relieve some of tight, unpleasant emotions that sat behind Jeff's sternum. It was just like a monster. After he told Jeff he would pay more attention to them—he _sends them away._ Fucking monster.

_For how long?_ Eyeless thought, daring to break the quiet. He was still standing straight, chin still up, still clinging to his leadership. Jeff checked his own stance and found, with not a little pride, that he did the same thing. He didn't appear weak or shocked. Good. He wouldn't give Slenderman the satisfaction.

_You won't come back. Ever,_ Slenderman said. They huddled closer to each other, stunned eyes staring at the monster they all followed, through thick in thin. _Used_ to follow. _You'll leave this place and go north. You will not enter within a two hundred mile radius of it, or I will kill you. Neither will you lead police back here, or you will face the same consequence. And it will not be pleasant. Go and do not return, on pain of death._

They paused, and they stared, until Jeff whirled on his heel and shoved past BEN. He jerked the door open with a twitching left hand and (quietly, because as much as he despised he was still terrified of Slenderman) for the front door. Behind him, he heard footsteps. They grew quieter when they arrived outside, with no walls to bounce off of, and Eyeless caught up to Jeff. Jeff looked over at him and he saw a kind of numbness on the mask Eyeless had slipped that he hoped was reflected on his face. Because he wasn't. Numb, that is. He was kind of shocked, because he thought—well, that maybe Slender really _cared._ Damn stupid, he knew now. Slenderman was a monster. That was probably was he was bringing in all the newbies—to replace his orginals, once he sent them out to die. That was the other thing he felt, besides the shock—self-righteous anger. Because Slenderman had played them all like so many cards, so many fucking idiot dogs—and they'd stumbled right along with him for years. He felt fury with himself, for ever daring to place his trust in someone, and he felt fury at Slenderman, and at the newbies, and—hell, at everyone.

Jeff was so absorbed in his emotions, watching his anger boil, that he hardly noticed when they left the forest. He hardly noticed when the sun came up. He _did_ notice when Eyeless stopped walking, catching Jeff's shoulder. Jeff jerked away from him. "What?" he asked, his voice sharp.

"We should stop and eat," Eyeless said. His voice was as dull as his mask.

"Why?" Jeff asked. "We're all gonna die anyway. Let's just slit our wrists now. Save us a lot of energy."

"Shut up," Eyeless said, his voice still the same. He turned to face the others. "Guys, we're eating." The group didn't disperse, but they sat close to each other, rummaging through their bags. Once he saw that they obeyed, Eyeless pushed Jeff away from them and hissed, "Don't say stuff like that. You survived without Slender when you were thirteen. Laughing Jack survived for _hundreds_ of years. We're not going to die."

"He wouldn't send us away if he thought we were going to live," Jeff said.

"We're not going to die," Eyeless insisted.

"Well we're sure as hell not going to live." Jeff spun on his heel and started to storm away, because he just coudn't stand being around any of the others, with their confused eyes and worried faces, but Eyeless caught him again. So Jeff did the logical thing. He spun back around and punched Eyeless. It wasn't very effective, considering Eyeless's mask, but it made Jeff feel a tiny bit better. Until Eyeless punched him back—a hell of a right hook to his jaw. Jeff stumbled backwards, snarled, and then launched himself at Eyeless's middle.

They were brawling after that, hitting and clawing and when Eyeless's mask got yanked off the bastard _bit_ Jeff, so Jeff tried to pull his knife out. He only succeeded in allowing Eyeless to pin his arm to the ground and sock him in the jaw again. Somehow he wormed his way out from underneath Eyeless, jumped to his feet and wrestled his baby out from its sheath, only to have it stolen from him. He turned and bore his teeth at Laughing Jack, who skittered back to where the others were still clustered, staring. "Let's not make this fatal, boys," Laughing Jack said.

Eyeless slammed into Jeff before he could respond to Jack, dragging them both back to the ground. Jeff brought his leg up and drove his heel into Eyeless's eye socket, thrilled when Eyeless yelped and scrambled backwards, one hand coming up to clamp over his face. "Bastard," Eyeless snarled, throwing himself at Jeff again. Jeff rolled onto his feet and tried to get a punch in at Eyeless's gut, but Eyeless's knee came up and smashed into his nose with a crunch. Eyeless pressed his sudden advantage when Jeff backed off, holding his nose. Eyeless knocked his feet out from under him until he was on the ground _again._ He trapped Jeff there, his wrists pressed into the ground and his body kept still by Eyeless's weight.

Jeff glared at him for a second before he heaved out a breath and let his head fall back onto the ground. He wriggled his nose and grimaced. "I think," he said, "you may have broken my nose."

Eyeless's grip on him didn't loosen, but Jeff felt his body quiver some. When he spoke, his voice sounded amused. "Yeah, it was a good hit."

"Dirty trick."

"You tried to bring a knife to a fist fight."

Jeff grunted. "You bit me. I'll probably die of an infection now."

Eyeless's whacked him again—not gently, but not so hard Jeff felt the overwhelming need to struggle again. "We're not going to die. None of us. Okay?"

Jeff huffed. "Yeah, whatever."

Raising his voice some, so the others could hear, Eyeless said, "We are _all_ going to be fine. We're going to work together, like we've always done, and we're going to keep each other safe. We're still a—a family. And that's what families do. What brothers do. Right, Jeff?"

"Right," Jeff muttered.

"Good," Eyeless said. He flicked a strand of hair out of Jeff's eyes. "Okay, then. Are we done, Jeff?"

"We're done." Eyeless released him, standing and offering Jeff a hand up. Jeff accepted it and dusted himself off. He glared at the others. "Unless anyone else wants a go?"

"No, we're good," BEN said, stuffing a Twinkie into his mouth.

"BEN," Eyeless groaned. "What kind of a breakfast is that?"

"A good one," BEN said.

Jeff bypassed Eyeless and stood in front of Laughing Jack, holding his hand out. "My knife. Now." Laughing Jack set his baby in his palm and Jeff slipped it back into its sheath. "We don't touch the knife." Then he stormed to his bag, grabbed a box of crackers and started munching hostilely on them. For about five minutes they were quiet, eating in the sunshine, before Eyeless stood from his place at BEN's side and cleared his throat. Six pairs of eyes locked on him.

"Alright," Eyeless said. "I feel like we should set some ground rules. Now I know most of us have survived on our own before, and we had our own methods—so feel free to share if you have any suggestions. Masky, Hoodie, both of you should keep your masks on. I will, too. Jeff—well, you might get a mask. Your face is pretty noticeable. Laughing Jack—okay, new plan. Masky, Hoodie, still keep your masks on but how about if anyone asks we tell them we're going to, like, a party or something. Alright? Alright. And we're all brothers. Me and Laughing Jack will be the big brothers and you guys are with us, okay? And we need better names. Come up with some real-sounding names, but not your real names, and tell me later.

"Priority for right now is shelter. We need somewhere secluded, and two hundred miles away from here. Until then, did anyone bring anything we could set up with? Damn. Oh well. We'll figure it out tonight. We should stay out of cities as much as possible, though. And we should have enough food to last us a week or so. After that, we'll have to steal. So maybe not too far away from a town."

"Hey, I know," Jeff said, looking up at Eyeless. When Eyeless looked back at him, Jeff said, "That little town I came from. I mean—it was little. Oh, shit, never mind. It's not two hundred miles from here and we wouldn't want Slendy to kill us." Jeff twisted his mouth. "Carry on."

"It was a good idea, though. When we settle down we can figure out job schedules. 'till then: no killing unless absolutely necessary. I'll probably have to at some point, because I'm starving. Are we all good with that? Thanks. Also, try not to fight with each other. Just because Slenderman's not around anymore doesn't mean we can start tearing each other apart. If you do, I'll sic Jeff on you. Or Jeff, I'll beat you to a little bloody pulp myself. Clear? Alrighty. So start packing up and we'll move off in a little bit. Jeff, I want to see your arm."

"You _bit_ me."

"I know, stupid. That's why I want to see it."


	12. In Which There Are Cattle and Clowns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everybody! Hope you have a great one.

"Uh, should we maybe run?" BEN asked, warily eying the cattle that stopped some fifty feet away from their group. If Jeff knew his cattle any—and he did. He was Midwesterner—they were beef. Angus, probably. Stout and heavy.

"Are they running?" Eyeless asked, not pausing in his stride.

"Not yet," BEN said.

"Then I think we're—"

"Oh crap. Now they're running," BEN said. Jeff watched him hop towards Eyeless's side like a bird, dark eyes wide. The rest of their group followed suit, stumbling over each other as the cattle neared. Jeff wasn't sure which one of them bolted first, but it triggered all of them into a mad dash.

The field stretched out acres in all directions, so there was no escape behind a fence, but there was a grove of trees that they all fled for. But the thing about stampeding cattle is that you really can't outrun them. Maybe if the trees had been closer—but they weren't. Jeff, towards the front of the group, lasted about two minutes before he was overtaken by thundering hooves and large black bodies. He tripped and hit the ground, cracking his chin against it and yelping. A hoof struck him over the head and drove his chin back into the ground. He curled up, clamped his hands over his skull, and waited.

The flood of cattle trampled around him, their hooves smashing the grass and tripping over his body, their weight thudding around and their breath blasting far too close to him for any sort of comfort. It seemed like an hour before the herd dissipated, sheltering in the same trees Jeff and the others had been headed for and looking back at them with large, twitchy eyes. Jeff uncoiled and stretched, groaning. His head hurt, his face hurt, his shoulders hurt—hell, everything hurt. Pushing himself to sit, Jeff looked around. He was relieved to see six moving, living figures scattered in the grass around him. "Everybody alive?" Eyeless called. He was already standing, his face turned towards the cattle.

"I think I am," Jeff said.

"Me and Masky are," Hoodie said.

"Let me get back to you on that," BEN answered shakily.

"Dandy," Laughing Jack said.

"You teleported, cheater," BEN said, pointing an accusing finger towards him. Laughing Jack grinned and nodded.

"I'm bleeding again," Toby said, patting his stomach. Eyeless walked to him and crouched, pulling his shirt up and sighing.

"Yeah. Anybody else hurt?" Eyeless said. After receiving several affirmations, he corrected himself and said, "Anybody else hurt _badly_?" When it was decided that no one else was, Eyeless set to work fixing Toby's ripped stitches while the rest of them stared warily at the cattle. None of them sat, except for Toby and Eyeless, but BEN made his way to stand by Jeff.

"What are you eating? You know you shouldn't—" Jeff started, seeing BEN's jaw moving. Food had to be conserved for as long as possible. Well, that rule hadn't been lain out before, so Jeff guessed he couldn't get too upset about it. But it should be common sense.

"Huh? Oh, no, it's just candy. Laugh gave it to me," BEN said.

"You've known him for, what, four days, and you take candy from him? And he's a murderer? BEN."

"It's not like I can die," BEN said, sniffing. "It's probably okay. Want one?"

"No. I would die."

"Oh yeah. Hey Laugh—Laugh, is your candy poisoned?" BEN asked.

"Huh? No," Laughing Jack said. "Why? Want some, Jeff?"

Jeff narrowed his eyes. "Not on your life."

"You know your head's bleeding?" Laughing Jack asked.

"Yes." Jeff swiped his hand across the back of his head, where a hoof had clipped it. When he looked back at it, blood clung to his fingers. Pretty.

"Eyeless, Jeff's bleeding," Laughing Jack said.

Eyeless hardly looked away from Toby. "Yeah? Is it bad?"

"No," Jeff said. "Just my head."

"Alright, but if you pass out you'll slow us down," Eyeless warned.

"I won't pass out," Jeff said. "Laughingstock's just being annoying." Laughing Jack frowned and attempted to circle around Jeff and look at the back of his head. Jeff, glaring, kept Laughing Jack in front of him. The third circle they made and Jeff was starting to get dizzy—probably, he concluded, an effect of blood loss, the spinning, and the swirly black and white on the clown's nose that was making him feel like his eyes were crossed. He staggered some and Laughing Jack leaped at the opening.

" _Eye,_ " he called, his eyes glinting merrily. "Jeff's tripping now."

Jeff backed away from the clown, baring his teeth and rubbing his eyes. "Fucker," he growled.

He was planning out an assault in his head when Eyeless grabbed him by the jaw and twisted his head to the side, clicking his tongue. "We could cut off all of your hair and then stitch it up, if you want."

"No," Jeff said, tugging away from Eyeless.

"Then sit down before you fall down."

"But the cows—"

"You can stand up if they try to attack you again," Eyeless said dryly.

"I'm not even dizzy," Jeff grumbled. "The fucking clown made me dizzy."

"Obviously," Eyeless said. "The fucking clown is going to watch you now. Clean his head off, too, if you can." Eyeless looked up at Laughing Jack, who beamed and nodded.

"Of course," he said. "You're the boss." Jeff stalked away from them before sitting and refusing to look at Laughing Jack when he bounced to Jeff's side. Laughing Jack sat beside him, comfortable as anything, and said, "I have a rag. Lemme see your head."

Jeff snatched the damp rag from him. "I can do it myself, bastard."

"But Eyeless said—"

"He'll be happy whenever my head's clean. Doesn't matter how the fuck it gets done," Jeff said. He roughly scrubbed the back of his head for a few seconds before pushing the rag back at Laughing Jack. "There. Done."

"Maybe you should hold it on—just let me see it."

" _No._ "

"Eye will be mad if it's still bloody," Laughing Jack whined.

"It's _not._ "

"Yeah it is."

"Fuck off," Jeff said.

Laughing Jack reached for his head and Jeff ducked away. "Please? I promise I'll be careful."

"What? And you want me to _trust_ you?" Jeff let out a bitter laugh.

"Well, yeah. I don't expect it, though. But how about if it hurts too much you can punch me."

"I'll punch you whenever I want to."

"I'll give you candy?"

"Were you born this dumb?" Jeff asked.

"Wasn't really _born_ ," Laughing Jack said. "Pleaseee let me see it."

Jeff exhaled and rubbed his forehead. He was getting a headache. "If you'll leave me the fuck alone."

"I promise," Laughing Jack said, his eyes lighting up. "So I can see it?"

"Whatever," Jeff said, but he didn't move when Laughing Jack sidled behind him and parted his hair. He stayed very still, held his breath and glared at the ground, as Laughing Jack ran the rag across the cut on his head. It felt absolutely wrong, being in this vulnerable of a position, especially to a veritable stranger. No, it didn't _feel_ wrong, it _was_ wrong. He was already smaller than the others, and Laughing Jack was taller than them—and now Jeff sat, and he lowered his head and let Laughing Jack touch his wound. Yeah, it was wrong. He'd have to find an excuse (it wouldn't be hard) to fight Laughing Jack sometime soon—make sure his place was still stable. Jeff didn't think any of them could stand for their careful hierarchy to get thrown off anymore than it already was.

Except maybe Laughing Jack. He probably wanted to best Jeff—maybe Eyeless, too. The thought sparked up a fury. If it had been Masky or Hoodie or any of the others cleaning his head, it wouldn't be half so bad. They all accepted where they were—they were at peace with each other. They didn't fight. But _Jack._ The one person who hadn't decided his spot yet—the one person who was a threat to Jeff's leadership, and Eyeless sent him to manage Jeff.

Did Eyeless want Laughing Jack as his right-hand man? Jeff hadn't thought their fight had been anything major, but maybe it had been? Maybe Eyeless thought Jeff wasn't fit for the job anymore? Fear slithered down his spine. He couldn't—he couldn't loose his spot. His strength, his respect—the trust he saw in their eyes. He would probably die to get that look. Eyeless couldn't take it away from him. _Jack_ couldn't take it away from him. He would have to prove himself again. He would have to beat Laughing Jack to a pulp—kill him, maybe. Then Eyeless would see Jeff was still fit to command. They would all feel safe again.

Because they didn't right now. They absolutely didn't.

"Hey."

Jeff turned his head fast enough that his neck cracked and his nose hit Laughing Jack's. The clown was leaned around him, their faces level, and his eyes were wide and curious. Jeff leaned away from him. "What?" he asked, as poisonously as he could.

"I said I was done. You were just staring off—you looked terrified." Laughing Jack laughed. "Was it that bad? Are you afraid of rags?"

"Apparently," Jeff muttered, scooting until there was a good five feet of space between them.

Laughing Jack frowned. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No," Jeff said, wrinkling his nose—which still hurt—in scorn. "You said you'd leave me alone."

"Oh, right. Yeah. Okay."

Jeff sprawled back in the grass, crossing his arms behind his head and staring at the powder-blue sky and the insubstantial clouds that drifted across it. It seemed so...peaceful. Maybe it was. But it didn't feel like it. It felt threatening—but Jeff knew that was just him. And he was going to resolve it.


	13. In Which There Are Plots

Jeff wondered how long it took to travel two hundred miles on foot. He assumed Eyeless knew, and he hoped it wouldn't take as long as he thought it would. They didn't stop for lunch that day—Eyeless said they should conserve while they could—and they ate dinner only once dark fell and Eyeless decided they should rest. They all heartily agreed and wolfed down sandwiches and water before laying in a broad circle. "No one thought to bring bug spray, did they?" Toby asked. There was a collective groan from the group.

The night was uncomfortable. It was hot and muggy and Jeff couldn't sleep with the sweat and mosquito bites that plagued him. So he thought. It probably wasn't healthy. _How are we gonna kill Jack?_ Jeff mentally clucked his tongue. _When? Soon. It has to be soon. I don't think I can put up with him much longer, and I want this to be...tasteful. Could do it tonight—hm. Maybe. But how? Are we going to kill him? Or just cripple him? Killing would be easier—but crippling might send a stronger message. And he might be useful when we need to steal stuff. So, crippling. That makes things a little more complicated—but we're just so clever._ Jeff grinned. _How do we want to cripple him? Has to be fast. He's pretty strong, and, well, he teleports. So we'll have to do it, quick, while he's sleeping. Cutting limbs off takes too long. Blind him? There's an idea. That would make him dependent—he doesn't have heightened senses like Eyeless. That might work._

_Anything else? Just to make double sure he won't be a threat? Can't think of anything quick...scar up his face, maybe, so whenever anybody looks at him they know who's strongest. What will Eyeless think? He'll be mad if we just do it out of random. Does it matter? Well, I guess. We're trying to prove ourselves—come on, we need to be clever about this, Jeffy. Ugh, why's it gotta be so hot? I can't fucking think._

_We could tell Eyeless that Jack scared us and we reacted. Jack'll protest, though, but Eyeless would listen to us. He trusts us more—as well he should. We're the only one who can be his right-hand. We earned it. But maybe he would still have some doubt—he knows we don't like Jack. We could wait for an excuse. Oh, who are we kidding? We don't have that kind of patience. And we don't want the others to start to look up to him. BEN already seems to. Provoke him into a fight—no, that won't work. Remember he teleports? We can't win fairly, because he won't play fairly. We have to a trickster._

_I think the scaring thing would work, if Jack's asleep. We can say we were having a nightmare or whatever and we thought he was threatening us. He can't protest that. We'll be apologetic, so everyone believes us—and they'll see how strong we are with our knife—and if we need to, we can fight Jack later. He'll be easier to beat. There—_

Something moved. Jeff caught it out of the corner of his eye, on his left side, where Laughing Jack was sleeping. He flicked his gaze that way, expecting to see Jack tossing in his sleep, but what he saw was much more horrific. His entire body went rigid and his eyes widened, adrenaline flaring off of his nerves—for about three seconds, before he realized what the monster squatting next to Jack was. Vaguely humanoid, twisted out of shape with pale skin and large eyes. Jeff wheezed out a breath and tried to relax his muscles. "Rake," he said, his voice dancing on the border of a squeak. "The hell, bro?"

"You stopppped," the Rake said, his voice high and wobbling. Beside him, Laughing Jack twitched and then lay very still. Jeff almost laughed. Bastard deserved it.

"Yeah, we have to sleep—wait, did fucking Slenderman send you?" Jeff sat. On his right side, Eyeless rolled over.

"Jeff? What?" he asked.

"It's the Rake. Get up," Jeff said.

"Yesss," the Rake said. "You cannot stopppp. Uppp, alllll."

"Do you know it?" Jack asked, his voice a quivering whisper.

Jeff smirked. "Yeah, dumbass. It's just the Rake. He's an old pal."

"Palll, yesss. Uppp."

"Rake," Eyeless said. The Rake's bulging, luminous eyes crossed Jeff to focus on him. "Why are you here? What do you mean?"

"Ssslender sssent. Not stoppp. Move away. Two hundred milesss. Leassst," the Rake said. He scrambled across Jeff's lap to crouch beside Eyeless, placing their faces inches from each other. "Uppp and move. At onccce."

From beside Eyeless there came a litany of artistically strung-together curses. The gist of the message was, "Bad Rake, why?"

"Well we'll figure that out, if you'll quit cussing," Eyeless said. Toby groaned in response, cracked his neck and sat, his hair tousled over wary eyes. Consciousness spread around the others in the circle, and Jeff enjoyed their expressions when they were startled from their sleep by the Rake. A widening of eyes, a stiffening of limbs or, in Masky's and Hoodie's case, a tightened grip on someone else. "Rake," Eyeless said, drawing the creature's drifting attention back from the others as they scooted closer.

"What?" the Rake said, in a tone that sounded complaining to Jeff.

"Quiet and sit," Eyeless said to the others, before they could begin muttering questions. "Rake, why are you here? Did Slenderman send you?"

The Rake sighed and admired his hands. "Yesss," he said, after a moment of silence. "Ssslender sssent."

"Why?" Eyeless asked. Beside Jeff, Laughing Jack scooted into the circle—uncomfortably close to him. Jeff inched closer to Eyeless.

"Ssstupid," the Rake sighed. "Sssaid two hundred milesss. You go now. Ssslender sssaid not ssstop."

"Why can't we stop? We have to sleep, Rake. He can't just—"

The Rake patted Eyeless's cheek. Eyeless screwed up his face but otherwise remained still. "Can do anywhat he want, ppproxy. He sssend me, he sssay, 'Watch them, Rake, they go two hundred. Fassst. Not ssstop except for maybe hurt.'" The Rake made a sound Jeff thought may have been laughter, but it sounded so gargled and butchered he couldn't be sure. "Cowsss hurt. Ssstupid."

"So you just sat and watched that?" Jeff demanded. Eyeless shot Jeff a warning glance.

The Rake tilted his head impossibly sideways. "Yesss." He stood, still hunched, and chattered intelligibly to himself for a moment, the pitch of his voice heightening and making Jeff cringe. Then he said, "Now you get up and go."

"Why does he want us to leave so bad, Rake?" Eyeless asked.

The Rake shrugged. "Never-no-mind. Go. Go, go." He gnashed his yellow teeth at them, thin drool leaking over his lips. "Or I hurt."

"Rake, we can't—" Eyeless started. The Rake screeched and Jeff clamped his hands over his ears, baring his teeth. The Rake had the most horrible, disfigured voice—Jeff thought his ears might start bleeding. At the very least, his brain would be turned to mash. "Alright, alright," Eyeless said, raising his voice to be heard over the wailing.

The Rake stopped and glowered. "Now," he said.

"You heard the monster," Eyeless sighed towards the others. "Grab your stuff."


	14. In Which Jeff Isn't the Only One Who Snaps

Once they were traveling, the Rake disappeared into the woods that had cropped up some two hours before. The mood that clung to the group was noticeably sour—waking up after such a horrible day to such a horrible creature tended to do that. And the Rake had ruined Jeff's plan. _Nah, don't think that. We can do it tomorrow—oh, wait, no we can't. Because we can't fucking stop._

"I can't believe him," BEN said, falling into step with Jeff. They both knew he wasn't talking about the Rake. No, the Rake was a pawn, just like them.

"Yeah, what can I say?" Jeff shook his head. "He's a monster, Benny. But what have we learned from this?"

BEN sighed miserably. "Don't trust monsters."

"Close. Don't trust anybody."

"But—what about everybody here?" BEN asked, looking around at their group, which had spread out. Masky and Hoodie lagged behind, clinging to each other's hands. Eyeless had drifted to the front and Toby walked not far behind him. Laughing Jack was somewhere behind Jeff—a fact which both pleased him (he was leading, not the clown) and unnerved him (what if Jack stabbed him in the back?).

"What do you think, BEN? They're all murderers," Jeff said.

"But they wouldn't kill us. We're brothers," BEN objected.

Jeff glanced down at him. He looked as disgruntled as any of them—ruffled hair trapped under his hastily pulled on hat, shoulders slumping and grass sticking to his clothes—but he looked sadder. Because of Jeff. Well, what did the kid want him to do? Lie? "I dunno," Jeff muttered. "Doesn't mean much in the long run."

BEN's eyes swung up to him, brightening with anger. "You only say that because you tried to kill Liu."

"Yeah, I did," Jeff said, narrowing his eyes. "So don't trust anybody, BEN. I'd probably kill you in a heartbeat if I thought it would benefit me in the long run. I betcha anybody else here'd do the exact same."

"No they wouldn't," BEN hissed. "They're not like you."

"What's like me, BEN?"

"A—a monster. A bloodthirsty, selfish, arrogant liar."

Jeff punched him. A fast, solid blow to his throat. Maybe kind of a dirty blow, because BEN wouldn't be up to defending himself anytime soon. Unfortunately, the sound of sudden coughing and wheezing whipped Eyeless's head around.

"BEN," Toby cried, jogging to their friend's side and lowering him to the ground. "Jeff, what the hell? Did you hit him? You fucking bastard." His body twitched and Jeff thought he would have scrambled to his feet and leaped if BEN hadn't been resting against him.

"Did you hit him?" Eyeless asked, glaring quite effectively for someone with no eyes from which to glare.

"Yeah," Jeff said.

"Why the hell, Jeff?" Eyeless demanded, then shook his head and looked at BEN. "Know what, never mind. Later." He crouched next to BEN and Toby and began murmuring to them.

"Why'd you do that?" Laughing Jack asked.

Jeff turned on him. "What the fuck's it even matter to you? Like you care. You shouldn't even be here. Dunno why the hell Slenderman sent you. Was it to keep watch on us? Are you working for him, too?" _That's it, that's it,_ he thought, a wild excitement leaping in him. _We'll fight now, now, this is a good excuse—or maybe even not an excuse. So much the better. Let's do it, let's do it, let's_ cut _him._ Jeff grinned and reached for his knife.

Laughing Jack held his hands out peaceably. "I'm not working for him, I swear," he said, keeping his dumb white eyes on Jeff's. He clucked his tongue after a second of appraisal. "Yeah, you're not dealing with this very well, are you?"

"Don't patronize me," Jeff snarled. "Why else the hell would he send a newbie? Nobody else here's one. You're his little spy, like the Rake, aren't you? Fucking take him back a message from me!" Jeff lunged, slashing at Jack's eyes—and meeting air as the clown vanished. _Fuck,_ he thought, his eyes widening. _How did we forget that?_ His baby was plucked from his grip and Jeff was fairly certain that was the straw that really broke the camel's back. After Jeff fell, the rest of them followed, like so many cleverly-placed dominoes.

The words Jeff shrieked when he saw his knife in Jack's hand—well, maybe they were words, maybe they weren't. Jeff just knew his throat was vibrating and when he jumped at Jack again, the clown didn't disappear. Rather, he scrambled to hide behind Masky and Hoodie—because, apparently, he thought Jeff was above hurting them. Normally this may have worked. Normally Masky wouldn't stand up to Jeff when he tried to circle around to get at Jack. But this wasn't normally.

Masky planted himself in front of Jeff. "Fuckin' move, Mask," Jeff said, looking over the dark head to watch Jack, who was still backing up. Masky shook his head. Jeff lifted his hand—he wasn't sure if he could have landed the blow, could have made himself be that shitty of a person even though the rage in his chest screamed _fuck them all._ However, Hoodie didn't seem to want to play with sureties. The second Jeff's hand moved Hoodie was on him, cracking a fist into his nose.

Jeff wailed as it bent unnaturally for the second time that day, certain that this time it was broken. He quit trying to express his fury with words and knocked Hoodie's legs out from under him. Hoodie grabbed his shirt and hauled Jeff down with him, rearing back a leg to get him in the stomach. Huffing out what air he had in his lungs, Jeff pushed himself up again and kicked Hoodie in the ribs. Hoodie twisted and grabbed Jeff's ankle, but when Jeff fell he drove his fist into the side of Hoodie's head. Hoodie cried out and his grip slackened, just before another weight was colliding with Jeff.

Masky managed to get Jeff on his back and popped him in the face, although he avoided the nose and went for the side of his eye. Before Jeff could push him off, another hand snagged the back of Masky's jacket and yanked him off. "Hey, let's chill out—"

"Don't fuckin' touch him," Jeff yelled, throwing himself at Jack. Jack abruptly released Masky, who darted to Hoodie's side. Jeff was surprised when his fist actually met flesh—it was only for a second, before Jack was gone again, but it gave him the tiniest bit of satisfaction.

It didn't last long.

Toby jumped on him. Like, literally. He threw his arms around Jeff's neck in a choke-hold and wrapped his legs around Jeff's waist. Jeff staggered backwards with the sudden weight and the arms around his throat tightened until he couldn't breathe. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he could see Hoodie advancing on Jack and he could hear BEN shouting at Eyeless—until his ears started to ring. He clawed at Toby's arms, trying to force air past the muscle and the bone pressing on his windpipe. He couldn't fucking breathe. Black spots danced mockingly in his vision. He could hear, faintly, that Toby was shouting, so close that lips brushed his ear. "Sucks, don't it?" Toby demanded. "This is what BEN felt, Jeff. Doesn't it hurt? Why did you hurt him? You motherfucking bastard, I _hope it hurts!_ "

Jeff tripped and pushed his weight backwards, ramming Toby into the ground. The choke-hold loosened just the slightest bit and Jeff gulped what air he could manage before Toby tightened his arms again. Desperate, Jeff threw his elbow back into Toby's stomach. Toby didn't flinch, because _oh that's right, he can't fucking feel fucking pain._ Maybe Jeff would die. He thought maybe he would. Toby was like a pitbull—he wasn't letting go anytime soon. Jeff's vision was so tunneled when Toby was dragged away from him he didn't know who did the dragging—didn't care a lot, really. He rolled onto his stomach and wheezed, gagged, and then wheezed some more. After about ten seconds of that, someone kicked him in the mouth. Jeff recoiled, forcing himself up to tower over BEN, and wiped his teeth against his hoodie sleeve.

"BEN fucking Drowned, do not kick a man when he is down," Eyeless roared, dropping Toby and storming towards them. Hoodie seemed to have let off of his assault Jack and was huddled by Masky—Jack was a good distance away, staring at them. Toby was slumped on the ground now, although he still looked hostilely at Jeff, and BEN was still puffing himself up, trying to look intimidating—shoulders thrown back, eyes narrowed, ears back.

One of his ears twitched when Eyeless called, but he didn't look away from Jeff. He looked away some when Eyeless grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back. "Fuck you both," Eyeless hissed at them. He whirled on the entire group. "Fuck you all. Just—just—whatever. Do whatever the fuck you want. Kill each other. See if I care. I'm not doing this." He got to the point where he picked his bag up and threw it over his shoulder—he even took two steps away from them—but that was as far as he got. Then he sat and buried his face in his hands. And then he didn't move.

BEN's shoulders drooped with his ears. "Eyeless?" he asked, although his voice was too quiet and Eyeless too far for it to amount to anything. He looked at Jeff again. "Look what you did. Why do you always have to be such a bastard?"

Jeff was irritated to see tears forming in BEN's eyes. His jaw clenched. "What did I tell you, BEN? Everyone here'd kill you if they got the chance."

"No," BEN said. "They'd kill you. And you'd deserve it."

Jeff could see himself hitting BEN again—but he couldn't bring himself to. He was too tired. Not just from the fighting. From the walking and the bleeding and the not-sleeping and the emotion and then the fighting. He sat down, instead. "Why, BEN?"

"Because—because you're horrible," BEN said. "I mean, you're always mean, but—but Jeff. Do you just hate us now? Because Slender sent us all away? What did we do? We—"

"Shut up, BEN," Jeff said, gripping his hair. "I'm just trying to—to—"

"What? To tear us apart? 'cause you hate us?"

"No," Jeff said. "No, I'm trying to keep us together. I just—it's all so fucked up now. I hate it."

"Jeffy." BEN, to Jeff's horror, looked like a beaten puppy—they all did. Except maybe Jack. He just looked like a lost puppy. And Toby, like an angry pitbull puppy. BEN lowered himself to sit by Jeff and then crawled underneath his arm, sniffling. Jeff was frozen by the sudden change. He was sure no one had done this since—since they were little and had nightmares. He kind of...missed it. "I'm sorry," BEN said. "Shouldn't have called you a liar, or kicked you."

"Guess I shouldn'ta hit you. I don't know if what I said was wrong, but I didn't mean to make you upset."

"I lied," BEN said. "I wouldn't kill you. Nobody would."

Jeff scoffed. "I wouldn't say nobody."

"Most nobody here."

"Maybe."

"Maybe Toby," BEN said, smiling in that direction.

Jeff looked up at Toby's face, which had gathered a confused appearance—although it rapidly turned dark again when he saw Jeff's eyes on him. Jeff grinned. "Yeah, probably Toby."

"You should talk to Eyeless," BEN murmured, glancing at the hunched back of their friend. "I'm gonna go see Toby, okay?"

Jeff nodded and BEN crept away from him, leaving him free to stand and walk towards Eyeless—cautiously, very cautiously. He didn't want to be bitten again. "Eyeless?" he said.


	15. In Which Jeff Tries to Patch

Eyeless didn't stir when Jeff called him. Jeff wasn't sure if he was breathing—wait, yeah he was. His shoulders moved a little bit under his hoodie. Jeff opened his mouth to say something—what, exactly, he wasn't sure. He didn't really think before he spoke. Laughing Jack's voice interrupted him. "Hey, guys, that weird creature-thing is back."

Jeff glanced over and glared. The Rake was hovering at the edge of the wood, staring them down with enormous, unhappy eyes. "Eyeless, walk and talk?" Jeff offered, hesitantly extending a hand to his friend.

Eyeless, still without looking at any of them, stood and grabbed his bag with uncharacteristic anger in his movements. The others followed his lead and the Rake slid back into the woods. Jeff attempted to walk next to Eyeless, but their damn height difference made it difficult. Eyeless had almost a full head on him, and Jeff found himself trotting to keep up with Eyeless's stride—which was demeaning, but Jeff guessed he might kind of sort of deserve it. "Eyeless? Can we talk? Please?"

Eyeless stopped short and whipped his head around. Even though he didn't have eyes, Jeff thought the sockets were often enough to convey as much as an eye would. Usually, those sockets looked steady, peaceful—sometimes amused, sometimes irritated. But Jeff couldn't think of more then ten times Eyeless's sockets had looked this pained and furious. Maybe even not that many. "What?" Eyeless snapped. "What the hell do you want to talk about? How fucked up this all is? How quickly we can turn into fucking animals without Slender? How irresponsible we are? How immature and—and we're children. How we never fucking grew up—how reliant we've become on fucking Slenderman? How shitty of a leader I am? Do you want to fight about it? I don't. I don't fucking care, Jeff. So just fuck off."

Jeff stared at Eyeless's back as he whirled and stormed forward. _Well,_ he thought. _It's kind of weird being on the other side of things. How many times have we said that to Eyeless?_ He almost wanted to smile. But not really. Jeff jogged to catch up to Eyeless again and said, "No, that's not what I want to talk about. Mostly because none of it's true. Hey, could you at least slow down? I'm trying."

"Yeah, when it doesn't even matter anymore," Eyeless said, but Jeff chose to believe he slowed his gait a tiny bit.

Jeff kept his silence after that. Maybe Eyeless just needed a little quiet? It seemed reasonable to Jeff, after all the noise and emotion of the last twenty-four hours. But maybe that was just him? Maybe he should push Eyeless? Hell, he didn't know how to deal with all this emotional shit. They walked until the moon started falling towards the western sky and Jeff could see the green light of a city in the distance. Eyeless stopped, and Jeff copied. The others had fallen behind them—Jeff envied the lucky bastards. His legs were killing him, trying to keep up with Eyeless. "What?" Jeff asked.

Eyeless turned back towards him—his sockets were looser now, calmer. He shrugged off his bag and asked, "Could you carry this for me? I have to—ah, I'm—I'm starving. You don't mind?"

"Oh. No, yeah, definitely go." Jeff reached forward and took the bag, hooking it over his free shoulder. He rubbed the back of his neck before asking, quietly, "You comin' back?"

Eyeless raised an eyebrow. "Of course, stupid. I would take my bag with me if I was leaving."

"I dunno, you could have just felt guilty. It's not like you need the food in here."

"You have a point," Eyeless conceded. "But I'm coming back."

"Wouldn't blame you if you didn't," Jeff muttered.

Eyeless hooked him around the neck and dragged him forward so he could scrub Jeff's head with his knuckles. Jeff tried to wriggle away from him—to no avail. Damn him. "Can't get rid of me that easy, Jeffy-boy," Eyeless said when he released him.

Jeff pushed at Eyeless's arm when it continued to hang around his shoulders. "Go away," he said, smiling. "Go eat somebody."

"Will do," Eyeless said. "Cut around the city. Walk slow, so the Rake doesn't get on your case. I'll meet you on the other side. Get the others to eat breakfast."

"Got it," Jeff said. "Go straight through the city, quickly, ditch Eyeless, starve everybody."

Eyeless kept on the straight path to the city, and Jeff fell back to steer the others towards the side of it. They excepted his quick explanation without much question. They all looked miserable and exhausted, their steps slow and eyes downcast. Toby, Jeff noticed with a flash of worry, looked pale. _Probably we opened his wound again during the fight,_ he thought. Dammit. Well, Jeff wasn't about to do anything about it. If he tried he bet Toby would bite his head off. BEN seemed to have reached the same conclusion, but not to the same result.

"Jeff," he called. "Do you think we could stop for just a few minutes? At least put a bandage on Toby's side?"

And how could Jeff say no to a moment of rest? "Yeah," he said. "Hurry. And eat, too. Breakfast time, gents." He dropped his and Eyeless's bags onto the ground, rolling his shoulders and avoiding thinking of his nice, comfortable bed at the Mansion—because it was fucking Slender's mansion. He made himself a quick peanut butter sandwich and scarfed it, watching for the Rake. Masky and Hoodie had sagged to the ground and leaned heavily on each other while they ate, and Laughing Jack was miserably sucking on a lollipop. When the Rake appeared, Jeff gestured to BEN, Toby and the bandages. The Rake didn't acknowledge that, but he didn't move forward, either. Jeff drew their time out as long as possible, but eventually BEN had finished with Toby and they had both eaten—and the Rake wasn't stupid, so Jeff sighed and said, "Round 'em up and move 'em out."

It was a long, boring walk to the other side of the city. They trudged in silence, and it left Jeff with too much time to think about the fight. They hadn't had one like that in...forever. Not all of them together. _Slender hadn't kicked us out in forever_ , he thought sourly. There were other things that begged to be thought about besides the fight, but Jeff refused to think about those. He didn't want to start handling those thoughts right now. He just didn't have the energy. Even his bellicose temper seemed to have been dampened by the anger the fight had held. Their fights usually had a point besides petty feelings—but this one didn't. It was just rage and sorrow and the fresh sting of betrayal and confusion and loss and all that fucking pleasant stuff. _Enough. No more thinking about that. It hurts our head. Let's go one thing at a time._

So—should he apologize for the fight? Any other time, that would seem laughable. He, Jeff the Killer, apologize? Never. But at any other time, he wouldn't feel so...wrong. The fight would have had purpose, and he would have won—one with Eyeless excepted. So had he been wrong to hit BEN? Well, maybe. BEN had been asking for it, though— _still not a good enough reason,_ he chastised himself. _We're a leader now. They look up to us. We've never abused them that...much—and we're not gonna start now. We have to be strong and good. Now, if Toby hit BEN because BEN insulted him would you be mad. Er...no. That's how we solve things. What if Toby hit Eyeless? Eyeless would hit him back. Obviously. So I did nothing wrong. Toby's just being a brat._

_Not to say we can't convince him to be a little less hostile. We could fight him again—but it's unfair. He'd be bitter. We could tell him how stupid he's being about the whole thing. We've already made up with BEN, so why should Toby still be mad? He's just making things uncomfortable._

_Oh, and we should talk to Masky and Hoodie. It was wrong to even think about hurting Mask—I guess we don't blame Hoodie for defending him. We would do the same thing, and we're not even in love with him. Ugh, I hate talking with people like this. It makes us seem stupid. Which we're not. And what about the clown?_ The thought sent a snake of irritation across his shoulders. _The Rake fucked us up. Not next time. Next time we'll get him—and we'll have an excuse. That thought erased the irritation. We'll say we thought he was working for Slender, so we blinded him so he couldn't spy. Good, good. Now we just need to find a time when we can cut him—but we're not going to be able to sleep. Fuckin' hate Slender_.

Jeff reined his thoughts in before they could cut down that path. Unruly little bastards. To distract himself and get one weight off of his shoulders, Jeff dropped back to walk beside Masky and Hoodie, placing himself on Hoodie's side. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," Hoodie said, looking at him. Jeff really hated the masks sometimes. It made it difficult to have an accurate conversation.

"You know I'd never...hit Masky, right?" Jeff said, after an awkward pause.

Hoodie was quiet a moment, although Masky bent forward to look at Jeff and nodded. "No, I don't," Hoodie said.

Jeff resisted the urge to flinch. "Well—I never would. Ever-ever."

"You looked like you were about to," Hoodie said.

His voice was muffled through his mask, but Jeff thought he sounded defensive. So, using the (very few) people skills that Eyeless had ingrained into him, Jeff tried to dissuade that feeling. It wouldn't be conducive to patching up injuries. "No, yeah, you're right. I don't blame you for hitting me. I probably deserved it. But—hey, you know how I get." Jeff grinned cheekily.

"Yeah," Hoodie muttered. "That's why I was worried."

"I know, I know. You were right. I'm not mad or anything. I just don't want you to be mad at me. Or you, Masky. I'm sorry. For scaring you and hitting Hoodie."

Masky reached around Hoodie to pat Jeff's shoulder, a silent comfort that made Jeff's heart that little bit lighter. He smiled as gently at he could—which, admittedly, was not very gentle, given the mad grin he'd carved into his face. But it was the thought that counted, right? "Well," Hoodie said, sighing. "If Masky forgives."

"You do too?" Jeff asked, looking over at Hoodie. Fuck, but the kid was getting tall. Almost taller than Jeff now.

"Yeah," Hoodie said. "I guess I might have overreacted."

"Not at all," Jeff said. "I would have done the same thing."

"And thanks. For that. Couldn't keep Mask out of trouble on my own," Hoodie said, glancing at Masky, who tilted his head back at them like an innocent kitten—who just happened to have shredded the curtains, fully aware that he would get away with it, because people just couldn't stay mad.

Jeff rolled his eyes. "Doubtless."

They curved around the city within the next two hours. They waited a wide distance away from the highway out of the city, laying in the grass and waiting for the Rake or Eyeless to appear—whichever came first. To their delight, Eyeless did. They greeted him enthusiastically, as though three hours' separation had simply been unfathomable—and maybe it was. To have lost so many of their own in so short a time—well, it made letting each other out of their sights that much harder. Eyeless himself was in much better spirits, and he led them back towards the city with a happy grin. "Wait until you see what I got us," he said, urging them along quicker with an energetic spring in his step.

On the north side of the city there was a smaller road. This was where Eyeless had hidden his surprise. When Jeff saw it, he had to admit it made the entire world brighter. "Well?" Eyeless demanded. "What do you think? How awesome am I?"

"Eyeless," Jeff said. "You're a helluva leader."


	16. In Which There Are Vans, Toll Booths, and Texas

Eyeless bowed, sweeping one arm out dramatically. "Why thank you, kind sir."

"Where'd you get it? How'd you get it? How many seats does it have? Can I drive? Ooh, can I, can I, can I—"

"BEN," Jeff said, although he was far too delighted to be annoyed by BEN's curiosity.

Heedless of this, Toby said, "Lay off, Jeff."

"Would you get over it already, fucking brat?" Jeff asked.

"You hit—"

"Yeah, and you choked."

"Alright, ladies," Eyeless interrupted. "Bitch at each later. Right now we have to bask in the glory of the van."

Aesthetically speaking, said van was incredibly ugly. Jeff supposed that at one point it had been white, but now it had faded to a dull yellowy-gray—where it still had paint. There was a nasty dent in its right side and it was missing a bumper and, Jeff suspected, a headlight. The inside, which BEN was already crawling around in, looked like it was shades of gray. The windows were heavily tinted and the front passenger window had been shattered out. "So where did you get it, Eye?" Jeff asked, watching as Toby clambered in after BEN—mindless of his injury and probably reopening it a third time. Masky and Hoodie poked their heads in a second later.

"In the city, at some place that had a lot of them," Eyeless said.

"Jeez, specific much?"

"I didn't really care. I saw it and I was like—yeah, getting it. It's pretty old, so it was easy to hotwire. It's a ten-passenger. We can put a tarp up over the window and we're peachy. You wanna drive? I don't trust BEN."

Jeff snorted and shook his head. "No, man, I'm gonna sleep."

"Oh, don't be such a sissy," Eyeless said. "I got the van, you drive it. It'll take—what, on this road, four hours, tops, to go two hundred miles. And we've already walked, like, thirty."

"Whatever, fine," Jeff huffed. "Let's go."

They piled into the van, throwing their bags onto the floor. Eyeless turned the car on and then took the passenger seat. Masky and Hoodie cuddled together in the bench seat behind the front seats, and Toby and BEN took the seats behind that, and Laughing Jack lay on the farthest bench. Jeff had hardly gone ten miles before Eyeless's head was tipped back against the seat, his breathing slow. Checking his rearview mirror, Hoodie and Masky were equally still, Toby's eyes were drooping shut behind his goggles, and BEN's head rested on his shoulder. He couldn't see Laughing Jack, but Jeff assumed he was asleep or near there, too. Lucky bastards.

Yawning wide enough to pull on the cuts by his mouth, Jeff shut the air conditioner off—because there really was no point in running it with the gaping hole next to Eyeless's head. The air that blew in from the not-window was summer warm, but still cooled with dawn. As the sun arced further up in the east, the wind warmed with it and quickly became sticky. _Fucking humidity,_ Jeff thought, scowling. On the bright side, Jeff thought they might leave the Rake behind. It would be nice to finally be loose of all ties to fucking Slenderman. _But we never will be,_ he thought. _Not as long as we travel with these guys. Well, we're not going to fucking leave them just because of fucking Slenderman. He doesn't have the kind of control over our life anymore. Didn't ever fucking deserve it. Why the hell did we ever agree?_ Jeff almost laughed. _We're such an idiot. Fucking should have died._

_No, no, no,_ he thought towards himself, grinning. _Fucking slaphappy. Need to sleep. Oh, we were thinking about something. What were we—oh yeah, yeah. Well, we got some good stuff out of agreeing. It kind of worked out well. We got Eyeless and all the others to keep us safe, and we're on our own again. We're free. We're actually free._

_No we're not. Not as long as we have these guys. They're ours, and we're theirs, and that means we're not free. Well...it's a nice kind of prison. And we're free to leave them whenever we want._ This time Jeff did chuckle. _No we're not. Even if we tried I don't think we could. We're in too deep. Eyeless is right—they're our family. The best family. They've chosen to walk with us, so we never have to hurt them. Good, good._ His thoughts trailed off into a faint, not-quite-English place. Images and memories and half-formed understandings. It was a long, confusing four hours. Jeff wasn't even sure if he was really awake. The hum of the road and the warmth of the sun lulled him into a half-aware state. At one point he nearly ran them off the road, and after that he was slightly more alert, watching the clock as it ticked towards noon.

Jeff pulled off onto the side of the road somewhere around eleven thirty. Even if they hadn't gone two hundred miles yet, Jeff was certain they'd left the Rake behind them. He tried to kick his seat back, but it stuck. Growling to himself like a mad dog, Jeff struck the horn. The resulting beep startled his companions awake. Eyeless almost jumped out the window. "What?" he asked, his voice stiff.

"My fucking seat won't go back," Jeff said.

Eyeless sank back into his seat. "Sleep in another seat. There's lots of room."

Jeff crawled over Masky and Hoodie and BEN and Toby and hovered over Laughing Jack to look in the back of the van, hoping to find an empty space—but no. Laughing Jack's, BEN's, and Toby's bags clustered the floor there in uncomfortable lumps. "Here," Laughing Jack mumbled, tucking his legs up. Jeff weighed his yearning for a comfortable spot against his dislike of Jack before he curled up on the other end of the bench seat and buried his face against the fabric to block out the light.

When he woke up, his blanket was bunched around his shoulders and it smelled like the Mansion and he swore he could hear the others downstairs. Was it all just—no. Twisting his head around, Jeff saw the dim back of a gray bench seat and felt a pool of misery sink deeper into his stomach before it was evaporated by a blast of rage. Why should he feel sorry about leaving the Mansion? Why would he want to live with a fucking traitor like Slenderman? Wriggling against the seat, Jeff stretched out his muscles before curling up again. At some point his shoes had been taken, his pillow stuffed under his head and his blanket draped over him. It was kind of disturbing that he slept that deeply. Laughing Jack had disappeared, too. From the low chatter in front of him, Jeff guessed he was in the front with Eyeless—which he knew should have made him furious, but he was so warm and comfortable. They had probably already been talking for a while—what was a few more minutes?

Jeff must have fallen asleep again, because when he rolled over on the seat it was even darker than before. The van had quieted, and Jeff found Laughing Jack sitting at his feet and looking at him. "What?" he snapped, pushing his blanket off.

"You're awake."

"What an observation."

"You slept a long time," Jack said.

"So sorry."

"No, it's not a bad thing, it's—You know, you're really hard to converse with."

"Everyone else manages fine," Jeff said. He threw his blanket and pillow into the back of the van and frowned when it huffed at him.

"That's where Eyeless was sleeping," Jack murmured.

Jeff stuck his head over the seat. "Morning, Eye," he said. Eyeless grumbled unintelligibly at him, pulling Jeff's blanket around himself. The bags had been moved, giving Eyeless a wide, empty space to snooze on—lucky. "What time is it?" he asked, looking around the van. They were moving again—Hoodie was driving, his hood and mask pushed away from his face. Masky, too, had his mask off and sat in the passenger seat. Toby and BEN were still in the same seat, leaving the front bench seat filled with bags. The clock glowed the numbers 9:43 back at Jeff in bright green.

"Almost ten o'clock," Jack said. "You missed lunch and dinner. Eyeless said not to wake you up. Hungry?"

"BEN, pass me my bag," Jeff said. BEN did. Jeff shuffled through it until he found a bag of Doritos and a soda, which he greedily set upon. Between mouthfuls, he asked, "Where are we going?"

"Still south," Toby said—because apparently Toby was talking to him again.

"When are we gonna stop?" Jeff asked.

"Dunno. Hoodie?" Toby looked towards the front of the van.

Hoodie shrugged. "Ask Eyeless. I'm just driving."

"Don't ask Eyeless," Eyeless mumbled. "Eyeless's sleeping."

"You got to sleep this morning. Get up. Where are we going?" Jeff asked, reaching over the seat to tug Eyeless's dark hair.

Eyeless pulled Jeff's blanket over his head. Jeff heard him inhale. "This smells like the Mansion," he said.

Jeff winced. "Yeah, I know."

"Miss it," Eyeless said. "Whatever. Hood, where are we?"

"BEN's got the GPS," Hoodie said.

"Um, looks like we're right at the Oklahoma-Texas border. There should be a toll booth soon. Hoodie, got money?" BEN asked.

"Yeah," Hoodie said. "Dunno if it's enough, though."

"Here's another five." BEN stretched across the seats to hand Masky the bill.

"Are we staying in Texas?" Jack asked.

"Maybe," Eyeless said. "I'm really not planning this. I'm just doing."

"Hey, that's my thing," Jeff protested.

Eyeless grunted. "I just want to get as far away as possible. BEN, Jeff, climb on back here. You too, Jack. Toby, you got your goggles off? Good. Look normal."

The back of the van was not made to fit four people comfortably. Jeff wound up squashed against Eyeless and half underneath Jack, and he thought that BEN's head was resting on his leg but he couldn't see through Jack so he wasn't sure. It wasn't awful—Jeff actually happened to like close spaces. They were safer. Closed-in, small, so you could see everything there. So it wasn't totally horrible being compacted against the floor—nice, maybe, a feeling of closeness he hadn't known he'd been missing since they left the Mansion. Jeff was almost disappointed when they made it through the toll booth and returned to their seats.

"Well," Eyeless said, his nostrils flaring. "Texas doesn't smell much different than Oklahoma. Does it look different?"

"Nope," the group answered.


	17. In Which There is Eavesdropping

Shortly after they entered Texas, Hoodie pulled the van over and they settled in for the night. Eyeless had refused to let Jeff sleep in the hatch with him, which both made Jeff suspicious and put him next to Laughing Jack again. After a few minutes consideration, Jeff thought it wasn't that bad. Jack kept himself tucked up on his side of the seat, and Jeff did the same, so they were hardly touching. And, he thought with a spark of glee. We can stab him tonight. Ooh, we can, we can. We're already so close. We'll have to face away from the seat, so we can reach our knife. and move quick. But that won't look suspicious to Jack—he doesn't know how we sleep, really.

So Jeff curled up with his back against the seat and waited. There was more shifting around than usual in the van—a lack of activity had left all of them with energy to spare, though Eyeless insisted they sleep anyway. It took what felt like hours for the shifting to die down, and Jeff waited a while longer to be sure before he gently coaxed his baby out of its sheath and propped himself up on his elbow. Jack's eyes were closed—really, Jeff was glad he didn't have eyelids. It made everyone look so vulnerable when they shut their eyes—Jeff would hate to look like that. Right across his eyes, he thought. Quick and sharp.

Jeff started to push himself further up, cautiously, trying to keep his movement from disturbing the clown. As it turned out, he needn't have bothered, because a second later a low voice whispered, "Toby?" Jeff nearly had a heart attack and sunk back down onto his seat, looking warily towards Jack's face and then BEN and Toby's seat. Jack's eyes had slanted open, and the moonlight reflected eerily off of his white irises. He furrowed his brow at Jeff and Jeff shook his head, pressing a finger to his lips and listening for Toby and BEN, in case he hadn't just been hearing things.

"What?" Toby's voice said, short and rough and equally quiet.

"Are you okay?" BEN asked.

"Yeah, fine," Toby said.

"Are you...crying? Toby? What's wrong?" Jeff heard shuffling and faint creaking as BEN moved.

"Nothing," Toby said. "Go back to sleep. I'm fine."

"No, you're not," BEN said. "None of us are. But it's gonna be okay."

"BEN, don't—get off."

"I'm hugging you," BEN protested. "It's okay."

Toby sighed faintly. "No. It's not."

"But it will be. I know so."

"How do you know so?" Toby asked, his voice grim. "How can it be?"

"We have each other," BEN said. "We're family, and that's all that matters. We have food and shelter and love. I mean, sure, it hurts now but time heals all wounds."

Toby was silent for a moment. "BEN, that's possibly the stupidest thing you've ever said. Have you seen Jeff's face? Eyeless's? Have you seen our hearts? Time doesn't do shit. Masky still can't even talk, and how many years has it been since—you know."

Jeff stiffened at the mention of "you know." Yeah, they all knew. They were all there when Masky came back, some year and a half ago. How could they ever forget? But they never spoke about it. Not even Slender. It was a wound they all skirted around. For Toby to bring it up—it spooked Jeff. Was their situation so bad that the horror of Masky's ordeal faded? "I know," BEN murmured. "But this isn't half as bad as that. All things considered, it's pretty good. Sure, we lost Slender and the Mansion—but look what we still have. Lots of things."

Toby was quiet again, although, if he strained his ears, Jeff could hear the occasional hitch in his breathing. "I hate him," Toby said.

"That's okay," BEN said. "I—I don't like him much either."

"I want to kill him."

BEN laughed softly. "Good luck. No—seriously don't do that."

"I know," Toby said. "It wouldn't work. But—but he was—was like a—our d-dad, BEN."

"Shh, I know," BEN said.

"And I want to k-kill him. Like my r-real dad. Except now I don't even have an excuse except for I hate him," Toby hissed. BEN hummed. "You know I used to pretend Slender was the only reason I killed—but now I can't. Now I can't, BEN. And I'm scared and I hate. I haven't hated in a long time. My head's so empty, BEN." Toby moaned. "And I h-hate that I m-miss him. Thought he l-loved us. So fuckin' stupid. Monsters can't love. We can't love, BEN."

"Shut up," BEN said. "Of course we can. We all love each other."

"Well we thought Slender loved us, too," Toby snapped, sniffling furiously and cracking his neck. "See how well that turned out."

BEN hit Toby—or at least, from what Jeff could hear, that was what he did. "We can to love. I love you, Toby. And I love Eye and Masky and Hoodie and Jeff and—and, well, maybe not Jack. I don't know him. But you're my fucking family, so don't tell me I can't love you. Okay? Okay, Toby?"

"Okay, okay," Toby said.

"Just because Slender sent us away doesn't mean our relationship changes," BEN said.

Toby scoffed. "Uh, yeah it does. Were you there for the giant fight the other night?"

"Everyone's just really on edge, Tob," BEN said. "We'll get through it together, and everything will be like normal."

"Whatever you say, Benny," Toby murmured.

"I'm always right."

"Of course. You can go sleep now. I'll be fine. Um—thanks."

"Anytime. Seriously, Toby," BEN said, the seat creaking again as he moved back to his side. "If you ever need anything—what are friends for? Sleep good."

"You too," Toby said. There was a hesitant pause before he added, "Love you, BEN."

"Love you too, Toby."

Jeff curled up tighter and slid his knife back into its home at his side. At his feet, he could see that Jack's eyes were still open and looked...sad. When he noticed Jeff looking at him, he mouthed, Need a hug?

Jeff curled his lip back and glared. Fucking bastard. Jeff considered kicking him, but he didn't want to disturb the rest of the van, so he turned his face into his arm and tried to fall asleep.


	18. In Which There Are Weeks and Grief

The next week passed without incident. They siphoned enough gas for the van to roam the entire eastern border of Texas, searching for the perfect hideout. The second week reminded them of the fact that they were killers. Jeff had started craving a job, so he told Eyeless. Eyeless said he could wait, because they had more important matters—like the cops, who had been tracking them for the last two days. Not for the fact they were murderers, no, but for the fact that they had been spotted siphoning gas. Eyeless had them patching the van window, wandering around south-eastern Texas and laying low during that time. When Jeff's stomach had started to hurt, he had complained. Eyeless had been sympathetic, but insisted it would be too dangerous for him to have a job. The next two days sucked. Jeff curled up in the back of the hatch and moaned about his stomach so pathetically that Eyeless and Jack had lain next to him. Jeff tried to stab Jack. That night Eyeless released him, and he did his job savagely and thoroughly. By the time he was done, he had six kidneys for Eyeless, a wet red hoodie, and three gorgeous, smiling corpses he left for the police. Laughing Jack had gone out two nights later. He brought them back sodas and books—the books had a few bloodstains on them, but were otherwise in good condition. He brought Jeff a phone.

The third week they pretended they weren't killers. They sequestered themselves to the coast of the Gulf of Mexico, because they all agreed that they wanted to settle near the ocean. It made Jeff feel a little like a teen in a movie—the bright sunshine and blue skies, the waving palm trees and neat little box homes. They only ever got out of the van when they were scouting, in groups of two, or if it was nighttime and nobody else was around. One night—Jeff didn't know what night it was, he lost track of the days—Eyeless had let them all out on a desolate piece of the beach near midnight. The moonlight glittered on the waves and turned the sand gray and black. They had swam in the cold ocean in the warm night, laughing and splashing each other. It had been incredibly nice. No worries about Slender, or their emotional instability—it had been normal, safe, happy. By the time Jeff sloshed out of the water, his eyes stung and he was tired, but he hadn't felt so good in a long time. He didn't even mind Jack so much.

The fourth week Toby and BEN found a hideout. They told the others all about it in excited voices—big, old, abandoned, in the middle of nowhere, perfect. They visited it the next night, and Jeff thought things were looking up. It was an old, two-story warehouse, home to only sparrows and snakes. They set up there, parked the van in the back and threw a tarp over it. They each marked out their own space and threw up flimsy walls with some wood forms they stole from a hardware store in town. The second floor was for rooms, the first floor for anything else.

The fifth week Jack—who was proving himself an adept thief—brought them a flat screen TV, Xbox, movies, and popcorn. BEN had insisted they have a movie night. Jeff had sprawled out his blanket between Eyeless and Jack. He was proud enough of Jack's accomplishment to allow him to lay with them and to consider letting him live with his eyes intact. After all, if he was blind, he wouldn't be such a good thief.

The sixth week they watched a rodeo from outside the stands and Jeff went out on another job.

The seventh week and the summer was starting to cool into autumn. They had a birthday party for Toby, with cake and balloons provided by Jack. It was one of the first times Toby had honestly smiled-big and stupid, like he used to-in almost two months. Jeff thought he might be able to live with Jack—so long as he didn't try to steal Jeff's position.

At the end of the eighth week Jeff disliked Jack again. It happened like this: Jeff had been walking to his room to change out of his shirt, which had gotten milk on it in the process of making dinner. His room was adjacent to Eyeless's, so on his way back downstairs he stuck his head into Eyeless's room to tell him dinner was almost ready. He found their fearless leader squashed into the far corner of his room, clutching his hoodie to his chest. Jeff sat by him until he cracked and ranted about Slender. Jeff's heart hurt for Eyeless—as far as he knew, Slender was the only creature on the face of the planet Eyeless would ever think of as close to father. To have that ripped away—well, it enraged Jeff, and he had only known Slender for some four years. Eyeless had been living with him since he was itty-bitty, and now—well, Jeff didn't envy Eyeless's heartbreak. He could only press close to his friend and fiddle with dark hair while Eyeless snarled and bore his teeth and mourned for the loss of father and home.

After, when Eyeless had calmed, he returned Jeff's gesture and worked knots out of his hair. "We need to take showers," he muttered.

"Yeah. How?" Jeff asked.

"Dunno," Eyeless said. "We could have Jack steal soap or whatever and go down to the creek."

"Sounds good to me. I'll tell Jack," Jeff said. When Eyeless finished smoothing his hair out, Jeff went to get dinner and found Jack waiting by the staircase. "Hey, just the guy I wanted to see," Jeff said, brushing past him. "Eyeless wants—"

"Yeah, I know," Jack said, following him.

Jeff stopped and Jack ran into his back. "What do you mean, you know?"

"I, uh, I heard. You and Eye. I'll get the stuff, don't worry—but Jeff, I mean, you know," Jack said, pausing to clear his throat, "um, I know everybody's still torn up about the Slenderman thing. I didn't really know him, so I'm not so bad off—but you knew him a long time, and I mean, if you need to talk or whatever—"

Jeff snorted and glared over his shoulder. "One: it's fucking not nice to eavesdrop. Two: why the hell would I need to talk?"

"Well, you have to be a little torn up too—"

Jeff groaned and resumed walking. "I'm fine," he said, heading for the designated kitchen-area. BEN was already there, stuffing his face.

"No, you're not," Jack said.

Jeff frowned. "Um, yeah I am." He grabbed a plate from the box in the corner. "I think I'd know."

"Eyeless says you bury stuff a lot—or, you know, turn it into anger. It's about the authority thing, isn't it? You—"

"Shut up," Jeff snapped, turning and glowering. BEN paused in his eating and watched them with his ears set warily back. "Why the fuck have you been talking about me?"

"We're friends, we talk," Jack said, shrugging. "But it's not nice to keep things bottled up inside—I won't think any less of you if you want to talk. We can go somewhere private—"

Jeff wasn't sure if he was mortified or furious or both. Probably both. And BEN was listening, what the fuck would BEN think? He'd have to try and salvage what pride he could. "Fuck off, Jack," he snarled.

Jack didn't look surprised or injured, or anything like what Jeff had hoped for. He said, "It's okay, I promise. Nobody will think you're weak—"

"Because I'm not fucking weak." Jeff lunged for him, only to come to the predictable result that Jack avoided him by teleporting.

"Guys—" BEN started.

"Shut the fuck up," Jeff snapped over his shoulder. BEN flinched.

Jack appeared between him and BEN, white eyes serious. "Eyeless said you never used to be so mean," Jack said. "I mean, he said you always had a temper and wouldn't hesitate to hurt—but it was never this quick of a temper and this bad of a hurt. Everything you're keeping inside, it's messing up your thinking. Look at BEN. He probably thinks you'll hit him if he doesn't shut up. BEN, could you go? Jeff and I are going to talk."

"No we're not. BEN, don't listen to him."

BEN froze and looked back and forth between them. "Go on, BEN," Jack said.

"Stay, BEN," Jeff said. "He's not the boss."

"You think I'm trying to be—"

"I know you are, you fucking bastard. And you're not. I am. I have been for years. They're my family. BEN, sit down."

BEN started to drift back towards the table. "BEN, please," Jack said. "We need to talk. Jeff, I know that, I'm not trying to take them—"

"I hate fucking liars."

"Guys," BEN said, clutching his head. "Please, can we quit?"

"I'm not lying, I swear—BEN, I really need to talk to Jeff, please go."

"BEN—" Jeff started, but BEN dropped his plate on the table with a clatter and bolted for the stairs. Jeff bore his teeth. _Damn it all to hell._ His anger seared a hole into his ribcage. "Now looking what you fucking did," he hissed at Jack. He wanted to kill, wanted to stab and tear and taste blood and feel flesh tear and see his blade all pretty, see his strength sprawling out on the floor. But he couldn't. He knew that. And it was making the anger so much worse. It had no release, there was no relief. Not with this damn clown—this damn clown who was trying to control his family, to steal them and leave him empty-handed and alone. _No_. The horror of the thing fed his rage. It must have shown in his eyes for a second, because Jack's face changed. It looked sadder.

"Jeff," he started, reaching for Jeff's shoulder. The thought of that hand touching him made Jeff's stomach turn. He backed away, felt anger with himself for yielding and then decided all he wanted was to be left alone. He didn't even want to fight now. His stomach was twisting, his throat felt tight with panic. When he slipped around Jack and headed for the stairs, the clown let him. He hid in his room and tried to feel normal.

The first day of the ninth week their little attempt at a normal world was shot to hell. Because they never could be happy, could they?


	19. In Which Jeffrey Woods is Fucking Kidnapped (Again)

Jeff had been sleeping when they broke in. They didn't have beds, but Jack had stolen blankets and pillows and those, combined with Jeff's from home, made a suitable nest. He had fought with himself and his fear and anger and the jumble of everything he didn't understand until he was exhausted. He wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but he knew when he woke up, because he was suffocating. There was something held over his mouth and nose, something that smelled sickly-sweet, and that was all he had time to register before he was gone again.

The second time he woke he was hardly there, and just long enough to have a rag pressed over his face again.

The third time was the longest time he was awake. He had a blistering headache and he tried to reach for his head, only to find that his arms were secured. This in itself sent a bolt of fear down his spine to his stomach, but that fear manifested tenfold when he saw what restrained him. _A straitjacket. They think we're insane, we're mad—we're not we're not we're not we're n—_ shortly after the panicked thoughts forced themselves into his skull, Jeff started shouting. _We're not insane, we're not they're wrong._ He wasn't sure if he was yelling words at all, or just speaking in the primitive noises of a trapped, injured animal. He just knew this emotion of terror was so much larger than anger, and so much more dangerous to himself, his sanity _that we still have, it never left, we're sane._

Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it, the straitjacket was the only precaution they seemed to take on him. The wall he leaned against was not padded, but a solid concrete—so he threw his head back against it, and it only took three tries for him to make the world disappear again. When he woke the fourth time his head remained painful, and his arms were still pressed into his stomach by the jacket and a fine tremor worked its way through his body—but he kept a hold on himself enough to observe his surroundings. _Focus, Jeff, focus a little._

He was still in the concrete room. It wasn't large—ten by fifteen feet, maybe. He was held to the wall by a set of chains that hooked above his shoulders and beside his hips, crossing over his chest. And he realized, with a flood of relief, that he was not alone in the room. Running his gaze earnestly over each of them, he determined that everyone was in the room but Jack. _Goodie,_ Jeff thought—maybe a little hysterically, but it wasn't _that_ bad— _If I can't catch him neither can they._ Who they were Jeff had no idea—but he didn't like them.

"Jeff?" a small, rough voice asked—but Jeff would recognize it anywhere. It was his brother's, after all.

"Yeah?" Jeff asked, looking towards Toby.

He sat against the wall, in a similar straitjacket, his face naked and creased with worry. "Where are we?" Toby asked.

"Dunno," Jeff said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. My head hurt earlier, but it's fine now. What about you? You hit your head really hard."

"I was—yeah, I did. It still hurts, but I'm fine."

"Okay. What about the others? They've been out for a long time."

Jeff strained his legs to lean forward and look at them all. "I think they're fine. They're breathing."

"I'm okay," Eyeless murmured from his spot across the room. "I just don't—feel so well." He giggled lightly. "I-I bit them."

"That's nice, Eye," Jeff said. "But I think they gave you something. Sleep it off."

In the next hour, Eyeless dozed off again, and the others woke up. They were all disoriented, but between Toby and Jeff they calmed and centered themselves quickly. Well—Masky excepted. Hoodie had to speak constantly to him, and even then he wouldn't stop shaking, although his whimpers died off. The rest of the day, or night, or whatever time passed, was a waiting game that put them all on edge. They kept expecting someone to come in and threaten and hurt them—but no one did. Eyeless jerked awake with a violent start around the same time Jeff began getting tired. He was quiet for a moment, before he wailed, flung his head back against the wall and said, "They took my hoodie."

"I don't think you slept it off, Eye," Jeff said. "It's okay. We can get a new one."

"No we can't," Eyeless insisted, rubbing the back of his head against the concrete. "That one's special."

"We can get it back, then," Jeff said. Eyeless seemed mollified by that idea, although he still fidgeted uncomfortably. "Eyeless, go back to sleep," Jeff suggested. "The rest of you, too. I'll watch and wake you up if anything happens. You know, if it doesn't wake you up while it's happening."

The others resisted the idea some, but within the next two hours they all drifted. Eyeless continued waking at random points and mourning his hoodie before passing out again. When Jeff's body felt tired enough that he knew that if he had eyelids they would be straining to shut—that was when they came. The door near the front of the room swung open, startling Jeff and BEN and Eyeless, who sat nearest it. It was unnecessary for Jeff to wake the others, who also jerked and snapped their eyes towards the door.

Three people stepped inside from the doorway—two men and a woman, all dressed in neat white coats and carrying hospital smell all over them. Eyeless's breathing sped up. The women stepped forward, a clipboard clamped to her chest. "It's alright," was the first thing she said. Damn liar. "I know you're probably scared, but I assure you, we mean you no harm. My name is Emily Burns, and I'm a member of the EMFP. We are going to help you, and then you're free to go. So there's no reason to be afraid. We'll start your procedures this afternoon, but we have breakfast coming soon." _Breakfast? What day is it?_ _How long have we been here?_ Jeff thought. "First on our list is—Eyeless Jack. Is that you? Oh, there's no reason to be scared." Burns's voice took on an annoying, maternal tone as she knelt in front of Eyeless and Jeff felt a surge of anger towards her, because Eyeless was _his_ big brother and _nothing_ to her.

"Get away from him, bitch," he snapped, jerking against the chains that strapped him to the wall. One of the men crossed the room in a few decisive strides and cracked Jeff across the face with the butt of the rifle he held.

"Jonah," Burns gasped. "Don't you dare. He's hardly more than a boy."

Jonah glared at her. So did Jeff. "So far as I'm concerned, long as he's got that hell-mark he's a monster through and through. I won't tolerate any bitching from him. Got it, boy?" He glanced back down at Jeff, who stuck out his tongue and earned himself another strike.

"Stop _hitting_ him," Eyeless shouted, yanking against his own chains. The rest of the room followed his lead, their voices rising against the white-coated people until Jonah pistol-whipped Jeff a third fucking time and stormed from the room, followed by an apologetic, purse-lipped Burns and an irritated, sallow-skin man. "Okay, Jeffy?" Eyeless asked when the room quieted.

"Yeah," Jeff said, spitting a mouthful of blood off to his side. "You?"

"As fine as possible under the circumstances," Eyeless said. He took a deep breath. "Alright. Listen up." Ten eyes locked on him, eager for comfort in leadership. "Whatever they're doing, we'll be fine. We'll get out of this." Eyeless frowned for a moment. "I'm gonna try and chew through these." He gestured to the chains with his chin. "Dunno how possible that is, but if you guys have any chance to run—take it, no matter what. Go get help. Jack's still out there. He's probably coming for us—so there's nothing to worry about. We just need to keep our heads on. Clear?"

"Crystal," Jeff said, nodding. When all affirmatives were received, Eyeless craned his neck to try and gnaw through his chains. He gave up some five minutes later, licking blood from his dagger teeth.

"Not happening," he sighed. "I think one of my teeth is loose." He wiggled it with his tongue. "Yep."

"It's okay," BEN said, although his shoulders sagged. "You tried."

"Yeah," Toby agreed. "I'm just worried about you."

Eyeless shook his head. "Don't be. I've been through worse."

Hoodie grimaced. "Some comfort that is."

"Yeah." Eyeless let his head fall back against the concrete with a hollow, hopeless _thunk_. Breakfast was brought by a man and woman in t-shirts and jeans, who dealt out plates as quickly as they could and then hightailed it back out of the room. Cowards.

"You know the problem with this?" Toby demanded, glowering at the plates of-well, something. Maybe edible. Probably not.

"Just the little fact we don't have arms to eat it with," BEN said.

"Precisely," Toby muttered. "I'm not eating it. I'm not a dog." He kicked it towards the center of the room, and the rest of them followed suit, the metal plates grating against the concrete.

The next however many hours were spent in damned waiting. Eyeless stared at the ceiling and shivered—the rest of them watched in a painful kind of anger and pity, thinking desperately to no avail and trying to cheer each other with hopeful words of escape and revenge. When they came for him, Eyeless went with dignity—the rest of them did not. They yelled and threw themselves against their chains and cursed themselves blue until the door shut. Then, when he was gone, they sagged against the wall and imagined all kinds of horrible things.

Eyeless didn't come back.


	20. In Which There Are Procedures and Pain

They came back at what Jeff estimated was a little before noon. Burns clucked at them for not eating their breakfast and then informed Jeff that he would be next for the procedure. He fought them—of course he did. He wouldn't be Jeff if he didn't. He kicked when he could and headbutted when he found an opening, and he cussed and he even bit one of them—and he was a pretty adept biter, after living (and fighting) with Eyeless for four years. Despite that, he was small, weaponless, and in a straitjacket. They dragged him from the room within minutes. The click of the door that cut him off from his family was like a death knoll and it washed fear down his back. He balked, refused to move his legs, so they pulled him along. They pulled him down hallways lined with doors, went through one of the doors, and then through a silvery set of double-doors.

Inside the silver doors there was what appeared to be a hospital room, except for the things it contained. Or just one of the things. The walls were white and there was a computer sitting in the corner, on top of a desk next to a spinny office chair. It wasn't those that horrified Jeff, but the low table in the middle of the room. He'd never seen anything like it. It was maybe two feet off of the ground and had three metal bands Jeff could picture head and hands pinned to the wood with. A second piece of wood came off of the bottom of it, with two more clamps. The wood looked reddish around the bands. Shaking worked its way from Jeff's shoulders to his knees, his breath coming faster, bobbing his chest along with it. Burns stroked his arm and he flinched. "Shh, it's okay," she murmured. "I know it looks scary. It won't hurt long. Tie him down."

The men wrestled him forward, until he knelt in front of the table, on the second slab of wood. They clamped his wrists and feet down and head down. _We're scared._ Jeff thought. Even his thoughts were shivering. _They're_ _going to torture us, we know they are. They'll hurt and they'll hurt and we'll hurt and we'll hu_ —Burns unstrapped his straitjacket, and then started to cut off a white t-shirt Jeff didn't recognize. His mind made a quick jump and he hauled back against the restraints because _no, no, no, not that, not that, please, please pleasepleasepleasenotthattheycan't._

"Shh, shh, baby," Burns murmured, stroking his hair. It made him sick.

"Fucking bitch," he said, although his voice quavered. "Whore."

She paused and he could feel her confusion. She broadcast everything she thought loudly, through each motion she made. "Oh, no, no, baby," she said, patting his head again. "We're not doing that, no, no, don't worry. We're just taking your mark off."

_Mark? What?_ Something cold and wet touch the base of his spine and Jeff stiffened, too fearful to feel even the slightest pleasure a touch to his back usually brought. _They mean Slender's mark? You can't take that off, or we wouldn't still have it. It's permanent._ "You can't."

"We're confident we can, don't worry," Burns said. "It just takes a few tries. You'll be all better soon." He voice turned into a coo, but Jeff swore he heard malevolence behind it. He tried to squirm away from the liquid they rubbed against his back.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Cleaning this off. Just a little water," Burns said. "No alcohol. Your friend told us you hated it. He's a sweet man, isn't he?"

"What the fuck'd you do to him?"

"He's just fine, baby, just like you'll be. Now relax. When you feel something in your head, you need to fight it. Understand?"

Jeff kept his mouth clamped shut. They started cutting him. That part wasn't that bad—worse than when he had carved up his face, because his back was more sensitive than that and this wasn't voluntary. It only took about five minutes, and then they stopped and he heard the gentle cling of metal on metal and then smelled something hot— _that_ terrified him. He yanked up against the restraints. Burns came to kneel in front of him and he saw her mouth working, but his ears were ringing too loudly for him to understand. They started burning him. He started screaming. It was a pulsing agony that drove through his spine and slid across the entirety of his skin, signaling his brain to struggle, fight, scream because maybe there was some sympathy in the room. His brain was a fool to hope, because they kept going. It felt like hours and hours of the excruciation (how much of it was real and how much of it was memory? Did it matter?)—and then it only got worse.

His mind started to burn. He remember the parasite there—that strong, loving thing that kept him close and snug and safe. He shrieked for it. S _lenderslenderslenderslenderslenderplease Slender make them stop._

And in his mind the parasite answered back, _Hush, hush, child, it will be well, we will be fine. Child, breathe._

_It hurts ithurtithurtsithurtsSlender._

_I know, I know, I'm sorry, child, so sorry._

_Helpme why don't youhelpme?_

_Shh, Jeffrey. You'll be fine._

_It_ hurts _they're_ hurting _us Slender._

_I will kill them for you, child, as soon as I can. Just breathe. Breathe. Good, very good. You're so brave, child, so strong. Think about me, tell me where you are._

_I dunnoIdunno it hurts I didn't see itwasdarkandit_ hurts.

_Where is Laughing Jack?_

_I dunno SlenderI_ dunno _please I'm sorry make them stop. Thisishow weare beautiful the fire. Rememberrememberremember it? Burningburningburning we're burning always burning they're just like us, Slender, they're no different we're burning._

_Child, you'll be fine. Eyeless was fine, he was brave, too. Tell me what happened._

_Kidnappedus smelled choloform trapped here think we're_ crazy _we'renotwe'renotwe'renot—_

_Quiet, now, I know you're not. Eyeless said you were in Texas, near the ocean. Is that right?_

_Yesyesyes we were—Slender they're_ burning _us make them stop._ The voice in his head didn't respond and Jeff panicked further—if that were possible. It was. He threw himself against the restraints, heaving his weight back against his wrists and snarling savagely. Burns touched his face and he tried to turn his head enough to bite her, but the band clamped his forehead to the wood and left him helpless. Her caress, and her gentle, pitying face made him sick. Or maybe that was the smell of frying flesh—the smell of years gone by and pain and crushing grief and horror and anger and _beautiful._

_Calm down._ Now, _child, you'll hurt yourself,_ the voice said.

_They're hurting._

_I know, son. I'm so terribly sorry. They'll be done soon. It only takes three minutes_.

The stopped burning him, as promised—but the pain didn't go away. _It still hurts. Are you going to goawayagain? Slender it hurts._ Something else touched his back and Jeff ground his forehead against the table _Nomorenomore please. Slender?_ His head was quiet. Empty. Alone. _Slender? Slender_ please. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, don't go—don't leave us, Slender._ There was no answer. His chest hitched and he angrily gulped down the threat of sobs. _He didn't leave,_ Jeff thought viciously. _He was never there. He probably_ wanted _this to happen. He sent us to them. Just a figment of imagination—something we thought would help. See how_ fucking _well that worked. Oh, it hurtsithurtsithurts._

"There, baby," Burns said, patting his face. He jerked away from her, as much as was possible. "We'll just put a bandage on and get you set up in your room. Now, you be careful and don't scratch at it. We don't want it getting infected." She moved out of his vision and his heart leaped into his throat—the thing she pressed to his back hurt, but it didn't burn. A few minutes later one of the men released him from the restraints and he scrambled to his feet, despite the screaming protests his lower back offered. He stumbled into a corner and glared, although his legs kept trying to buckle under him. Burns approached him with one hand stretched out, her lips pursed in concern. "Let me see your wrists, honey," she said. "We'll wash those off, get you a new shirt, and we'll be done."

Jeff thought about refusing—but he really, really wanted to get gone and he knew (he wasn't an idiot) he wouldn't be able to fight against the three of them. He stuck one of his arms out and flinched when Burns gripped it, carefully wiping a cloth over the blood that clung to the raw patches on his wrist. When she finished the first arm, she reached for Jeff's other—he slammed it back into the wall, smashing his funny bone. He cringed, his nostrils flaring with quiet, painful breaths, and rubbed his elbow before offering it to Burns. The cleaning process was repeated, and then she smiled and gave him a new white t-shirt. "Now, we're leaving your straitjacket off so it doesn't bother your back. Please be careful with yourself, or we'll have to put it back on," Burns said, before ushering him back out into the hallway, past the silvery doors and to a locked door. One of the men handed Burns the key and she pushed the door open.

Inside sprawled a wide room, with concrete walls but a carpet floor. There were a number of beds lining the walls, and cabinets above them—but none of that mattered at all, because sitting beside one of the beds was a gray-skinned, eyeless man in a white t-shirt. Jeff was at his side in three seconds, flat, if not less. Eyeless clutched him tightly and knocked their heads together. Jeff glared at Burns and the men and with a final warning ("behave, darlings, or...") they dismissed themselves and shut the door. "Sorry, Jeffy," Eyeless murmured.

"It's okay," Jeff said.

"Did they burn your mark?"

"Yeah, fuckers. Yours?"

"Yeah, fuckers. Did you—uh, did you hear something?" Eyeless asked.

"I pretended I did."

"Slenderman?"

Jeff pulled away some so he look at Eyeless's face. "Yeah. Did you—"

"Yeah." They were quiet for a moment, before Eyeless said, "We'll ask the others, too."

"The others—shit. We can't let them do that to them." They looked towards the door. "There are only three of them," Jeff said quietly.

"Brother, you have a point."

"Should we wait for someone else?" Jeff asked. "Three on three."

"You know, I think we can take them."

"You know, I think we can too. They serving lunch soon?"

"I'd say so," Eyeless said.

Jeff grinned. "Hungry?"

"Starving."


	21. In Which There Are Guns and Blood

After their initial burst of eagerness, they set their energy towards a plan. It would be safe to assume that the two men and Burns weren't the only people in—well, wherever this was. It was also relatively safe to assume that Burns and the two men would be the ones to deliver lunch. But, even if that wasn't the case, Jeff and Eyeless still agreed that they had to try and fight. Since they hadn't been killed yet—on the contrary, Burns, at least, seemed to encourage their survival—they hoped that at the worst, they would thrown back into the room. Hoped. Maybe they would die—but responsibility was responsibility. Jeff thought he might kind of understand, a little bit, what Liu was thinking when he took the fall for Jeff—because, really, they were both big brothers now. And that was what big brothers did.

The plan Eyeless and Jeff came up with was quickly formed before it was shoved into action—maybe that was why it didn't work. They agreed to attack Burns and the men—or whoever showed up—as soon as the door opened. They would take the guards' weapons and go back through the silver doors and to the concrete room. They would shoot the lock or pick the lock or grab keys on the way or whatever to open the door. They'd release their friends and then—well, then the plan got a little vague. It was basically just _get the hell out._ And that was as far as they got before the door opened.

Jeff let Eyeless have the men, since he was, you know, equipped with natural daggers in his mouth—and Eyeless did not disappoint. He lunged for the larger man first, slamming them both into the wall outside the room before any of them so much as stiffened. In a quick, professional move, Eyeless tore the man's throat with his teeth. Blood sprayed both sides of the hallway and all their pristine white shirts and coats. Burns screamed and fumbled at her waist—Jeff sprang for her, sorely missing his knife. But he could deal. She was small and he was furious.

He pinned her to the wall with his forearm pressed to her throat. She clawed at his hand and he was reminded of the horrors of suffocating—a fact brought to his attention by Toby. _Who she wants to burn,_ he thought, and pressed harder on her throat, felt it start to buckle. "How's that, Burnsy? Don't worry, baby, it won't hurt for long," he sneered, watching her mouth gape for air and her eyes widen in pain. And then, in a sudden realization, he noticed she was only clawing with one hand—leaving bright red marks on his skin—but the other hand—Jeff glanced down and at the same moment he did, Burns brought her handgun up.

Jeff leaned back and grabbed for the gun. At the same time, Burns wheezed in a breath and whipped the gun up. She pulled the trigger. Jeff started laughing when nothing happened—fucking bitch had left the safety on. But his relief lasted only milliseconds, because as he jerked the gun from her hand and clicked the safety off, a loud crack split down the hallway. _What?_ And then there were shouts from down the hallway, and a scream that had freezing fear drowning Jeff's elation at fight and freedom.

Whipping around, Jeff saw that the second man was sagging against the wall, clutching his throat. More deserving of his attention and terror was the only good man, standing and wavering in the middle of the hall, dark hands clamped over his stomach. Baring his teeth in fury, Jeff spun and pulled the trigger—it was cold comfort to see Burns's brain splattering all over the wall behind her, in a fine soupy mixture of meat and blood and crunchy bone. Jeff shot the second, gurgling man, too, just because he fucking earned it. Then he helped Eyeless ease himself to the ground, stiff with worry.

"Fuck," Jeff muttered, coaxing Eyeless's hands away from his stomach when he was settled against the wall. "Lemme see. Come on."

"People coming," Eyeless said, his breath coming in rigid gasps. "Gimme a gun."

Jeff scrambled for the nearest man's gun and shoved it into Eyeless's hands. Eyeless checked the safety and cocked it. "I'll take this side," Jeff said. "You take that one." They pressed their sides together, steadied their breathing, and as a single creature they aimed and they killed anything that turned down the hall or came through the silver doors. The people seemed to catch on quickly (there would be no talking down, not from this, not with them) and within five minutes they began firing back. Jeff hauled Eyeless into the room and slammed the door shut. "What do we do?" he asked.

"Hell if I know," Eyeless said. "You see an opening you take it."

"I can't—"

"You _will._ "

Grunting, Jeff stuck his arm outside the door and shot a man. When he pulled back in, he said, "You really aren't in any shape to enforce that order."

Eyeless groaned and Jeff flinched. "Don't do this now, please. Come on. Have I ever led you wrong before?"

"Several times, I'm sure."

"Out of respect for me, please—"

"It's not about respect, it's about strength—of which you currently have very little," Jeff said.

"So after everything I've ever fucking done, you're just going to ignore me because I'm shot?"

"When you put it that way it sounds terrible," Jeff grumbled, cracking the door open and peering anxiously down the hall, which had fallen empty and silent. He didn't like it. "I'm just not doing what you say because you'll die if I do."

"So what does that matter?" Eyeless demanded, his voice rising.

Jeff glared at him. "It matters a lot."

"Why? I'm weak now, remember?"

"Doesn't matter. You're still my family."

"So _listen_ to me. Please, Jeff. At least let me die thinking I had some kind of respect in your eyes."

Jeff rubbed his forehead and huffed. "Of course you do—but that's not what this is about."

"Are you that eager to be boss, that you'll let us all die?"

"That's not what I'm doing, shut up," Jeff snapped. "Lay back down."

"No. Jeff, I'm leader because you and the others respect me. You trust me. Because I've proven myself. Don't you remember—that time with Masky? Or when the cops came at Christmas? Or—"

"Eye, come on," Jeff said, scowling. "That won't work."

Eyeless pushed himself off of the bed and bore his bloody teeth. "Fine. Fine, let's fight. Now. We'll do it your fucking way, Jeff."

"No, we will _not_ _._ Sit your ass back down."

"Make me," Eyeless growled. "Come on. A fight. I'll still kick your ass."

Jeff flicked his eyes upwards and ground his teeth. "I'm not fighting with a shot man."

"You are right now."

"You know what I mean."

"You sure bided your time well, kid," Eyeless said. "Waited for just the right minute. You want to be boss so bad, let's go."

"I don't want to be boss," Jeff hissed.

"Yeah? Prove it. Listen to me."

Jeff looked back at Eyeless, where he stood unsteadily by the bed. His jaw jutted forward, and both blood and black slime dotted the collar of his t-shirt. His eyebrows were lowered in a stubborn glare, and his bloody fists clenched at his sides, ignoring the hole in his stomach. His hair, messy brown, scattered haplessly across his wrinkled brow. Beautiful. Jeff took a shaky breath and shook his head. Stubborn, smart, loyal, proud-beautiful. How could he ignore that? The blood that clung to Eyeless was for him, for all of them. The price to pay. And what was Jeff's price? This gnawing, shredding black thing that grew beneath his ribs with his decision.

"Eye," he said, his voice cracking. "I think you're the best man I know—and you're a serial killer." He laughed hopelessly. "It's a sad world, isn't it." Checking the hallway one last time, Jeff made his way to Eyeless's side and nudged him back towards the bed. Eyeless balked and refused to budge. "It's okay," Jeff sighed. "You win. Lay down now."

"I win," Eyeless repeated. "You'll do what I say."

Jeff pressed his forehead against Eyeless's shoulder and nodded miserably. "Always. You know that."

Eyeless sagged back onto the bed and folded his arms across his stomach. "Go now. The hall's clear. Try for the others, but the most important thing is to get out and get help. Find—Jack, or somebody. Jack would be really helpful. He can kill everybody here."

"Okay," Jeff murmured. He hovered reluctantly on the edge of the bed, huddled against Eyeless's crooked knee.

Eyeless's sticky, gray and red hand touched his cheek. "I'll be fine." Jeff mutely shook his head. "I will. They won't kill me."

Jeff looked up at him. "You hope."

"I know," Eyeless corrected.

"Don't lie."

Eyeless paused, smiled grimly, and said, "I hope."

Jeff crushed him into a hug, pressing Eyeless's boney body against his. He felt Eyeless's nose bury itself into his hair and inhale. That act was followed by a short, dry sob before Eyeless pushed him gently towards the door. "Love you, Jeffy."

"Love you back," Jeff said, swallowing around the stubborn lump in his throat.

"I know," Eyeless said.

Jeff rested a hand on the doorknob. "How do you know? Can you smell them? Emotions?"

Eyeless leaned back against the wall and shook his head minutely. "I can't—I can't smell anything but blood."


	22. In Which Jeff Abandons the Compound

Jeff thought—no, he knew—that leaving Eyeless was the hardest thing he had had to do since he had become a proxy. Since he was born. But he did—because Eyeless was his leader and his big brother and it was Jeff's responsibility to listen, it was his sacrifice to accept Eyeless's. But he knew he wouldn't be able to do it if he thought about it, so he shut off all of that and focused solely on his job—get out, get help. That was his entire world now.

He took both guns and he went through the silver doors. He got into the burning room without hindrance—and he found that the burning room was empty. He was more cautious going forward, because why wouldn't they try and stop him? Why just abandon their posts? Upon entering the hallway that housed his family, he found where all the rats had scurried. They lined that hall, blocked that all-important door, and when they saw him they shot. So he quit that and went back through the silver doors. They let him. He didn't like it.

Passing the door again, he almost thought about Eyeless and abandoned his mad mission—almost, not quite. Jeff wound his way through several eerie, empty halls before he came to a large metal door, in front of which was a group of eight men. Well, that was problematic—but he was fucking Jeff the Killer. He'd been avoiding cops since he was an eighth grader, and these guys were far less professional than cops. Jeff observed them for some time before deciding that all they were doing was standing and waiting for him—and they never noticed him, despite the fact that the only thing blocking him from their sight was the angle of the hallway wall and the shadows. They each had a gun—three of them rifles, one a shotgun, and the others handguns. Damn, but he missed his knife. Guns just weren't his thing. They were noisy and unreliable. Cocking the handgun he'd taken alerted all eight of them to his presence and sent them scrambling to draw their weapons. He hit the guy with the shotgun first—a near miss. It only got the guy in the arm, but that was enough to make him drop his gun. And luck of all fucking luck, the shotgun fired when it struck the ground and caught one of the men with the handguns. Jeff grinned and pulled the trigger on his second gun—a larger handgun. A Glock. He hit one of the handgun men in the stomach and dropped him.

The men all clumped together and moved as a unit—which, maybe, would have worked to their advantage if this was hand-to-hand combat. With guns, they presented a fine, fat target. Idiots. Jeff hit two more before he felt a sting at his side and jumped backwards. He cocked his guns and pulled their triggers as quickly as he could, but there were still five functioning men that surrounded him. It seemed ridiculous to Jeff that, once they held him at gunpoint, one of them said, "Drop your weapons." Like, would they let him live? The real world was weird. Jeff would kill everyone in the building for Eye—but these men, even after he had shot four of them, would offer him an out. Fucked. Instead, Jeff shot the guy in the heart. The remaining four shot him.

But he was Jeff the Killer. He was, if you will, a highly skilled and trained assassin. Even so, when all the men's corpses littered the concrete floor, Jeff hurt. It annoyed him to no end when he heard more shouts from down the hallway. He rifled through the lead man's pockets—the one who had spoken—and found a ring of keys. He filtered through them as quickly as he could, jabbing them into the lock until he found one that turned, relief leaping in him when he swung the door open. A narrow flight of stairs was offered to him and took them two at a time, until he reached another door. This door was made of flimsy wood and angled up into the ceiling. Jeff, fueled by the panic of a hunted animal, threw himself against it until it splintered and then he clawed his way up.

Sunlight hit him square in the face and he winced, ducking his head and kicking shards of wood away from his bare feet. Staggering upright, he spared a quick glance around himself. To his right there was an abandoned barn. In every other direction there were tall, yellow grass fields. Jeff took the road less obvious and bolted into the field, away from the cellar door. When he heard the shouts grow louder, he dropped and waited with baited breath, his heart thundering like a spooked stallion. He could hear them, yelling and walking, some twenty yards away. But they never advanced, and after a while, the sound faded. Jeff held his position, watching the stalks of the grass and the odd little bugs that traveled around and up them. The breeze was cool and wild and _free_ _,_ and it brought him no small amount of comfort. It smelled like autumn—smoke and rough leaves—and blood. He hoped they didn't have dogs, or they'd surely scent him out.

Cautiously, Jeff rolled onto his back and pushed himself up. The grass waved a good two inches above his head. Rolling up his pant leg, Jeff admired the worst of his new wounds. Entry, no exit, into his ankle. He swore he could feel the bullet lodged in bone when he tried to roll his ankle. The act sent a fission of pain darting up to his side and he stilled, tugging his pants back over it. Hiking up his shirt, the next wound he saw was minor. The bullet had just caught him, leaving a thin streak of red under his arm. Above that, another bullet had gone through the top of his shoulder, leaving a hole through the muscle. Luckily, none of these seemed fatal and so fell under Jeff's "unimportant" category.

When dark fell, Jeff pushed himself up and slunk away from the cellar, casting wary glances back over his shoulder. He went a good two miles before he started feeling more comfortable—and that was only until he saw the white line. It was right under his nose and he froze just before he stepped across it, kneeling to look closer. It looked like it was made of salt or sugar, except there were odd silver pieces scattered throughout it. Looking both directions, the line faded into the grass and looked unbroken. Jeff wandered back and forth for some time, reluctant to act on something unknown. What if it marked an electric fence or something, and he'd been tagged so he'd stay in? Did he want to find out?

_What are you doing?_

Jeff sprang away from the line, turning to the side to see a large, strange shape silhouetted by the moon. His mind registered both the figure and the mental voice in a flash and recognized this as a monster—a potential threat, but not immediate. Proxies could get along with most monsters, if they introduced themselves by master—except that Jeff refused to do that, because Slenderman was no longer his master. He was disowned, one of the most dishonorable things for a proxy, and he wasn't going to flaunt that. Still, Jeff had been maneuvering around monsters for a long time, so he fell back on that set of skills. He made his thoughts loud and cautiously said, _Standing here. Who are you?_

_Known by many names,_ the thing said. It looked vaguely like a bird, but much larger and uglier. _What is yours?_

_Known by many names,_ Jeff answered. _Sometimes they call me bastard, sometimes motherfucker, sometimes just Jeff._

The monster shook its head and made a strange sound that had Jeff edging back. _I will call you Bastard, then. What is your purpose? You are not what they usually send. Are you to be eaten?_

_I really hope not,_ Jeff thought. _I'll fight you about it._

_Understandable. Did you escape? Are you a monster-child?_

_What's a monster-child? Proxies?_

_I do not know how else to say it. Monster-child is most accurate,_ Seed Eater said.

_Um, I guess. Kind of._

_Who is your father? Or mother, I suppose?_

_Ah—hell, why does it matter?_ Jeff asked.

_I wish to know, Bastard. And I can still eat you. But I will not eat you if you are a monster-child. I am not suicidal. Your parent?_

_He's not my parent,_ Jeff thought bitterly. _But Slenderman marked me._

Seed Eater drew back as though Jeff had stabbed it. Yeah, he wished. _Slenderman?_

_Yeah,_ Jeff said. _So you won't eat me._

_Most definitely I will not,_ Seed Eater agreed. _Your father is very powerful, Bastard. Are you anything like him?_

Jeff grimaced, on the verge of saying that he really hoped not. But then he thought maybe that wasn't such a good idea. If he played his cards right (not lying, just not saying everything), he could use this creature. _I'm not sure what you mean. I don't have powers like his._

_No, no, in personality, in skill. Are you similar?_

_I suppose,_ Jeff said, shrugging. _I'm good at killing people and stuff. I used to have a lot of pull with him—I'm one of his originals. I dunno anymore. We've been gone for a while—they kidnapped us._ Not technically a lie. Just—misdirection.

_You have...sway? Would you like to bargain?_

_State your terms._

_I have...been on bad terms with your father. I would like to make things right. It has been nigh on a hundred years now...This would be a good chance for us to be friends again, I believe. I will help you to free the other monster-children from the feeders. In return, maybe you will give a good word of me to your father?_

Jeff rocked back on his good heel and hummed thoughtfully. Seed Eater cocked its head. _How can you help? Can you kill everyone in the building?_

_I could try for you, Bastard._

_That's not good enough. I need them all dead. Adjust our terms?_

_Of course._

_How do you know the kidnappers?_ Jeff asked.

_They are my feeders,_ Seed Eater said. _And my captors. They trapped me here, with the salt-silver line. But they feed me also—they give me the dying monster-children. But never do I eat them while alive, only while very dead, promise, promise, I would never kill monster-child. Promise. Believe me, Bastard?_

_I do,_ Jeff said. _What are the monster-children like?_

_I never know their parents,_ Seed Eater said. _Just children. Just like you. All very good. Strong, young. Good children. Very sorry they're dead._

_That's alright,_ Jeff said. _I didn't know them. Do you ever know what happens inside the place?_

_Sometimes I can smell. Like when they are burning or bleeding or other strong things._

_Good. So you can know when there is danger?_

_Yes._

_Here is what I want. My family, other monster-children, Slenderman's children, are in there. If you smell blood I want you to stop the feeders. Easy, right?_

_I cannot cross the line._

_Well I'm not freeing you. Make a helluva lotta noise or whatever. I'm just asking you to try. I don't think they'll kill them—why were the other children dying?_

_The burning,_ Seed Eater said. _They burn many, many times trying to get rid of monsters—never works. Kills children, not monster._

_How much burning does it take?_

_Much burning. Much, much burning. Months._

Jeff nodded. _I won't be gone months._

_You go?_

_I have a friend I need to get. He can kill everyone in there, with no risk to any of ours. Forgive me for not trusting you._

_Understandable_ , Seed Eater said, bobbing its head. _You'll be back soon?_

_Depends on how long it takes to find him,_ Jeff said. _I don't know where I am._

_The State of the United States of America known as Nebraska._

_Nebraska?_ Jeff thought, his shoulders slumping. _That far north? I was in Texas. Shit, it's gonna take forever to get back._

Yes, Seed Eater agreed. _I have an idea._

_Is it dangerous?_

_Possibly. But you are Slenderman-child._


	23. In Which There is Desperation

Jeff looked curiously at Seed Eater, narrowing his eyes. _What's the idea?_

_When the feeders, they bring you here, they bring lots of things. Food and blankets and things. Probably also bring callers._

_Callers? What, you mean like phones?_

_Callers is the most accurate term for them._

_Small, kind of square? People talk on them?_

_Yes, callers_. Seed Eater eased itself into a sitting position. Jeff did the same thing, because his ankle was killing him.

_So can we get the callers?_

_Yes. That is my idea. I will tell you where they keep the callers and how to get there. Then you will be giving Slenderman good word for me?_

_If anything you do helps me get the other monster-children out you'll get your good word,_ Jeff promised. _And I'm not a liar._

_Thank you,_ Seed Eater said, and it made a purring sound. _The callers are kept in the abandoned barn, far from children. Easy to find, if you get past the dog. There is special way to get past—but that I cannot tell you. I do not know. I have never been there, but the feeders go back and forth often, so it cannot be hard to do. You go there and the callers will be there somewhere. You can call your friend._

_Yeah. I think he took his phone with him. Hey, you're not stupid._ Jeff grinned at it. It chittered back at him.

_You are hurt_ , it said. _I will give you a ride back to the barn, if you want._

So Jeff clambered onto the back of the large creature, gripping its feathers. It carried him easily, dropping itself to walk on four legs. It took about fifteen minutes on Seed Eater's back to cover what distance it had taken Jeff close to an hour to cover, and the gentle rocking lulled Jeff out of his worry, until he saw the barn. He sat straight on the creature's back, nearly knocking himself off. Seed Eater sidestepped to compensate and its body vibrated with a low sound. _Sorry,_ Jeff said.

_Here is as far as I can go, Bastard,_ Seed Eater said, sitting before another white line Jeff hadn't noticed bolting into the field.

Jeff lowered himself from its back, easing his weight onto his hurt ankle. _Thanks,_ he said.

_You are welcome. Luck be with you._

Jeff hopped over the line, glanced at the cellar door—which appeared to have been covered by a tarp—and trotted towards the old barn. He paused at the doors, caught between the open land behind and the unknown threat in front—both terrifying. He finally nudged the door open and stepped into the barn. Faded moonlight flickered through the windows above the hayloft—and landed on a pile of things, some of which Jeff recognized, with elation, belonged to him and his family.

Despite his excitement, Jeff took each step slowly and carefully, once again grateful he didn't add to his risk by blinking. He didn't see any dog. Not on the floor, not up in the hayloft, not near the mound of things. It was freaking him out. When he reached the pile, he gingerly stuck his hand in and pulled it apart. When he reached a box that had _Slenderman Proxy_ _Phones_ scrawled across the top of it, his heart swelled with relief. This whole fucking nightmare could be over soon. Jeff pulled the lid off of the box and grabbed his phone—a sleek little thing with a red case—and nuzzled it against his cheek. He set the box to the side—the others would be wanting their phones back, because they _were_ getting out, soon—and turned his phone on. He scrolled to find Laughing Jack in his contacts and jabbed the glowing letters of his name. With growing anxiety, Jeff pressed the phone to his ear and listened to it ring. It rang. It rang. It rang. It rang. It rang.

It stopped ringing.

Jeff grabbed his hair and bore his teeth hopelessly at the barn floor. Fuck. Why the hell would Jack pick up? He probably didn't even take his phone with him when he went to get the soap. Why would he? It was probably lost somewhere at the warehouse. Or maybe it was even in the box, on silent. Jeff rummaged miserably through the phones, but Jack's didn't pop up. Jeff let his head fall back against the pile of things and exhaled shakily. Shit just kept happening.

And then he saw the dog. Large, entirely black—featureless. It didn't even have eyes. _Eyeless. Fuck, Eyeless, Eyeless, Eyeless._ A low keen rose in Jeff's throat. The dog moaned with him, although it had no mouth. _We killed him, we killed him—no_ we _didn't,_ you _did—I did. I killed him. I killed my brother._ His chest hitched erratically and the dog stepped closer. _Just like last time._ _But I didn't. I can't_ ever _do what I mean to—no wonder Slender hates me. I'm a fucking failure. I got his Eyeless killed, and the others—the others too, they're all dead, all because of me. Because I can't do anything_ right.

The dog was almost touching him, crying with him, because they were in pain, both of them, agony. _I always argue and fight and I'm always just acting and_ lying _I'm a_ liar _fuck fuck fuck_ —the dog presses against him—Jack _would be a better leader. I can't even fucking call a person right. We're all gonna die because of me. Like Eyeless. How fucking scared he must have been because I left him, I left him, Eyeless, Eyeless—the best man in the world and I left him to die. And the others. Masky, Masky, he's so sweet and he just—he just—all because of me. Hoodie would be right if he hated our guts. He loves Masky—like no one loves me. And no wonder. Look at me now, my self-pity, my cowardice, my lying and my_ weakness _I don't deserve it, don't deserve anything, not anyone, this is what happens whenever I have anyone they all_ die _because I'm a fucking_ failure.

The phone rang.


	24. In Which Jeff Finds Momentary Courage

The dog fell quiet at the sound of "Pop Goes the Weasel," but it kept its solid, dark form against Jeff's trembling body. Slowly, trying to settle his breathing, Jeff reached for the phone and dragged it towards them. The name glowing across the top was Laughing Jack's. Warily, Jeff brought the phone to his ear and pressed talk. "Jack?" he asked, his voice wavering on the border of fearful.

"Jeff?" The voice was familiar. A wave of relief crashed over Jeff and he exhaled, resting his head back against the pile of stuff. "What the hell? Where are you? Where've you been?"

"Nowhere good," Jeff said, laughing breathily. The dog twitched. "Damn. You have no idea how happy I am to hear you. Why didn't you pick up?"

"I didn't know if it was really you," Jack said. "But then I thought about how it might've been-what the hell happened? Are you alright? "

"I'll be fine, as soon as we get the others," Jeff said, rubbing at his eyes. The process stung them and made the dog sidestep, its heavy paws silent on the floor.

"What happened to the others? Dammit, Jeffy. Tell me where you guys are and I'll be there."

The dog shuffled closer to Jeff again, pressing its great head against his neck. It reminded him of Slenderman. Cold and shadowy. Slenderman who abandoned them, who abandoned him-not without cause. Why should Jack be any different? "Why?" Jeff asked. Why would he come? Why did he care? He hadn't even known them for half a year. Maybe he would come for Eyeless, or for BEN or any of the others. Not Jeff. But that was okay. As long as the others got out.

"Because-um, you're family," Jack said. "Right? I mean, that's what Eyeless said. We're all a big family, and we have to take care of each other. Uh, I mean, I know I've only know you guys for, like, three months-but I mean, a woman thinks her child is family right away when she knows she's pregnant-crap, that was a bad metaphor. I mean sometimes. I mean like not if she doesn't want it. But like I do. I want the baby. Not that you guys are-you know what? I'm going to stop now. I'm just going to say that I consider you guys family. Maybe you don't feel the same way, I get that, not everybody rushes into things. So, um, let me prove I'm family. Where are you?"

Jeff kicked the dog. It didn't have a mouth, so he wasn't really worried about it biting him. He watched it, satisfied, as it stumbled towards the center of the barn. "Nebraska."

"Where at in Nebraska?"

"Dunno. Where are you?"

"Michigan," Jack said. "I was looking for you. Guess I went too far north. I have the van."

"Awesome," Jeff said, pushing himself to his feet. "Hold on a minute." He clamped his phone between his cheek and his shoulder to rummage through the pile of things, pulling out a white hoodie. It was his smaller one, so he set it aside and reached back in for the one that actually fit him. When he found that, he pulled BEN's phone out of the box and brought up GPS. "Okay," he said to Jack. "What town are you in? Are you in a town?"

"Uh, yeah. Cornery, Michigan, I think," Jack said.

Jeff, after looking to see where in the hell he himself was-the middle of Freaking Nowhere, north Nebraska-he typed that into the GPS. "Okay," he said. "We're only about three hours apart. Wanna meet at Caskon, and I'll show you the way back here? It's in the middle of Nowhere, but it's about an hour from Caskon."

"Are you safe there?" Jack asked.

"Debatable," Jeff said, holding the phone in his teeth to pull his hoodie over his head. _Knifey, knifey, where are you, baby?_ He dug earnestly through the pile of clothes and boxes. Why did they have to be so unorganized here? "But I'll be fine. I'm gonna go ahead and go north. I met this weird creature-thing. I'll travel with it."

"Long story?"

"Little bit. Call me when you get to Caskon? I'll meet you somewhere outside it. I look less presentable than usual, and I don't know if they'll except the Halloween-party thing."

"Yeah, it's a little late in the year for that," Jack said. "Wait, why do you look less presentable? Are you hurt?"

"Not badly," Jeff said. Over the phone, he heard a car door slam and an engine rev. Frustrated with the disappearance of his knife, Jeff tossed BEN's phone back into the box and then headed back towards the barn doors. The dog had vanished. He cast a last look around the barn, up at the loft and the pile of clothes and things, but he saw nothing but shadows and moonlight.

"If you're hurt, just send me directions from the GPS and I'll come," Jack said.

"Nah," Jeff said. "I don't wanna stick around here too long. It's pretty close to the burning place."

"Burning place? Shit, Jeff, I leave for a couple hours-"

"Hey, I gotta go. Talk to you in a few hours?"

Jack sighed over the phone. "Yep, it's a date. Don't get kidnapped again."

"A-fucking-gain. I'll try not to. Caoi." Jeff hit the end button and slid his phone into his pocket before glancing across the bare ground the separated the grass field and the barn. When it checked out clear, he bolted (or as near that as he could get on his ankle) into the field and trotted to Seed Eater's formidable side. _Bastard,_ it greeted. _Did you find the callers?_

_Yeah,_ Jeff said. _Jack-my friend-he said he'd meet us in Caskon. That's north. Think I could hitch a ride there?_

_Ah,_ Seed Eater said, straightening a few of its feathers with its long fingers. _I would, but my meals come close to morning. If I go with you I will not make it back in time._

_Oh,_ Jeff said. He chewed on his bottom lip. _Alright. Will you meet me back here, though? Help Jack and me fight the feeders if we need you to?_

_Of course,_ Seed Eater said. _Travel well._

_Yeah. You too. Have fun...eating seeds or whatever._

Seed Eater made its strange sound-laughter?-again, and stretched one of its large hands towards his head. Jeff scrunched up his nose but allowed it to stroke his hair back. Creepy motherfucker. When it dropped back onto all fours, Jeff looked over at the north star and started limping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dog is from the Creepypasta Story "The Faceless Dog," if you were wondering. Thanks for reading!


	25. In Which Jeff Bitches and Jack Drives

After approximately two miserable hours, Jeff was dog-tired, his ankle was numb, his stomach growled irritably, and his mood had taken a sharp turn for the worse. Jack's ringtone made him want to butcher someone. He jabbed the talk button with more force than necessary and growled, "Hi."

"Hello, Mr. Grumpy Pants. I'm in Caskon. Are you almost here?"

"I'm in the middle of fucking nowhere, how am I supposed to know?"

"So I guess the nice Jeffy from earlier is gone?"

"There is no such thing as nice Jeffy," Jeff snapped. "And quit calling me that. My name is _Jeff._ "

"Okay, _Jeff._ Tell me how to find you."

"I don't know where I am, dammit."

"Look at the GPS."

Jeff glared at his shoes. About half an hour ago he'd reached the edge of the grass field and stepped across the salty border of Seed Eater's territory. Once out of the field, the grass had been mown to a more manageable level and he'd crossed a single backroad. He'd expected to find Caskon quickly and easily-but, as it was turning out, nothing could ever be that simple. "I left the GPS," he grumbled at the grass.

The phone was silent for a moment. "Could you describe your surroundings?"

"Hm. Ho-hum, ho-hum. Um, there's grass, and grass, and more fucking grass. We're in _Nebraska._ "

"Have you crossed any roads?"

"Yes," Jeff said poisonously, grinding his teeth. "I suppose you want me to go back."

"Would be beneficial."

"Don't use smartass words with me, Laughingstock, I am not in the mood," Jeff hissed.

"All I said was-"

"I know what you said, I'm not stupid."

There was a put-upon sigh from the phone. "No, Jeff. Of course not."

"What are you insinuating?"

"That you're in a helluva bad mood."

"I'm _starving_ to death, I'm fucking tired, my ankle's killing me, and everyone is _dying."_ Jeff stomped his foot-the bad one-snarled and sat in the grass, wrapping his free arm around his knees and trying hard to stuff the Eyeless-memory back into its little box.

"Aw, Jeffy," Jack sighed. "I know. Just find the road, okay?"

Jeff flopped onto his back, stared at the sky, and took a few settling breaths. After a moment, he said, "Alright. I'll text you the name and you'll meet me on it?"

"You betcha," Jack said.

"'kay," Jeff muttered, heaving his weight back onto his feet. "Talk to you later."

"Yeah. Be safe," Jack said. Jeff snorted and hit the end button before turning back the way he'd come, putting his head against the hard November wind, and walking.

It was some fifteen minutes later he found the road, and then he walked up it another ten before he found a road sign and texted Jack his location. Then he spent another thirty minutes waiting for Jack and wallowing in his misery. He was _attempting_ to avoid thinking about Slenderman and Eyeless and everything else that was causing him hell, but he really had nothing else to do but stare at the stars. He did manage to focus on those for a while. They were hard and cold-clear, and he named the few constellations he saw and knew. Andromedea, Pisces, Aquarius.

Eyeless had never seen the constellations. And he never would. Jeff rolled onto his stomach and buried his face against his arms, inhaling the smell of his hoodie, of safety and warmth and good times. Why was Eyeless so attached to his own hoodie? Jeff adored both his hoodies, but not to the point that Eyeless loved his. Jeff had never even asked about it. He didn't even know where Eyeless came from. Fuckin' good friend he was.

He'd have to be better, try harder. Oh, wait. He couldn't, because Eyeless was _fucking dead._ Jeff sucked in a breath and grabbed his hair. _Maybe he's not, maybe he's not. No, don't do this. Don't lie to yourself. We're not a child. Eyeless is dead. No hope. Don't hope. But-no. Just keep it together a little longer. Just a little longer and then we can_ snap _and we can kill those motherfuckers._

He entertained himself with visions of their mutilated bodies. They didn't even have to smile. They didn't deserve to smile. They didn't deserve fucking faces. He'd take all their eyes, that's what he'd do. Then he'd roll their eyes around and feed them to Seed Eater. Could someone feel their eye if you pulled it out but it was still attached by a nerve? Now that would be a fine experiment. He'd have to try it. There'd be plenty of subjects. All his brothers would want to have fun, too. But there would still be enough for all of them, Jeff thought. They could help each other out. Who said they had to work alone? Slender wasn't fucking around anymore to fucking tell them what to fucking do. It was Slender's fault Eye was-Jeff tugged on his hair again. The sparks of pain distracted him from the black hollow forming behind his sternum.

Shortly after Jeff heard the growl of an engine, headlights (on bright, Jack the bloody bastard) flared over the grass. Jeff pushed himself onto his feet at the same time Jack pulled the van off the road. When he turned it off, the land around them was readily cast into darkness.

"It's about time," Jeff grumbled, heading towards the van. It was actually good to see the vehicle again, ugly and familiar.

Jack met him halfway and looked him up and down. "You look like hell."

"Gee, thanks," Jeff said, swerving around him and pulling the van's side door open. "Don't feel much better." He collapsed onto the bench seat and pressed his face against the fabric, breathing in. It smelled like Masky and Hoodie, faintly-cinnamon and warm clothes. It was also pleasantly warm inside the van. "Get in and turn the heater back on," Jeff said, when Jack stopped beside the van.

"Are you hurt?" Jack asked.

"Nothing serious," Jeff said. "I can still fight."

"Who's blood?"

"Nobody's who deserved it. Well, mostly. Eye-never fucking mind. Let's go. We've got people to kill, brothers to rescue."

Jack rested a hand on Jeff's back, just above his mark. Jeff let him. It was soothing to feel a touch that wasn't panicked or painful, even from the clown-but they still didn't have that kind of time, so after a second Jeff turned his head and glared. "They'll be fine," Jack said, stepping away and climbing into the driver's seat.

"Yeah," Jeff said. "Right."

They drove south, towards the burning place and Slender and Seed Eater and their family.


	26. In Which There Is a Bag of Tricks and an Argument

On the way to the burning place, Jeff told Jack what happened, starting from when Jack had left to go get the soap Eyeless requested up until the point of their meeting near Caskon. He skipped over the faceless dog and his minor breakdown, but other than that, the story was complete. By the end of it, Jack looked angry, and his anger matched his eyes. It was clear and cold and icy. It made Jeff feel better, having a partner in his fury. It made him like Jack just a little more.

When they reached the field, Jeff hopped back out of the van and stumbled. His ankle, having been given a satisfactory rest, had leaped back to life and screeched at him like a furious infant. "What happened to your ankle?" Jack asked, grabbing his bag from the backseat of the car.

"Doesn't matter, it's fine," Jeff said.

Jack frowned at him, then sighed and nodded. "Lead the way."

Jeff hopped across the salt-silver line that marked Seed Eater's field and headed back towards the spot he'd met Seed Eater before. The journey seemed twice as long, and his mood, which had risen imperceptibly, began to fall again. Everything hurt and they weren't going nearly fast enough, fuck his ankle. Jack, despite having both a longer stride and better feet, matched Jeff step for step. And started asking questions. Lots of questions. Jeff suspected it was to distract them both from thinking too much, and he tolerated it.

"Do you have any other bio brothers besides Liu?"

"No."

"How about sisters?"

"No."

"Um...cousins?"

"Who the hell doesn't have cousins?"

"I don't," Jack said.

"You're not human, you don't count."

"Oh. Okay. How old are you?"

"I think we've had this conversation before," Jeff said.

"Yeah, you never told me," Jack said.

"I'm seventeen."

"When's your birthday?"

"Why the hell do you care?"

"We're family, and family cares."

"Whatever." Jeff glanced at Jack from the corner of his eye, pausing for a moment. "It's January 5th."

Jack lit up. "Hey, we're the same sign. Capricorn."

"Why the hell do you know that off the top of your head?"

"When you live two hundred years," Jack said, looking over at him and shrugging. Then his eyes narrowed and he flipped around to walk backwards in front of Jeff, placing their faces close together. Jeff leaned away. "What color are your eyes?" Jack asked.

"What? Why?" Jeff asked, narrowing said eyes.

"No, open them wider," Jack said. Jeff narrowed them more, wishing he could close them just to irk Jack. "Huh. They're a weird color."

"Well if that ain't the pot calling the kettle black."

"Point," Jack conceded. "But I know what color mine are."

"Mine are hazel."

"No, they've got kind of an orangey-red color in them."

"They're _hazel_."

"No, they're-"

"They belong to me and I say they're hazel so they're hazel, dammit."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Jack said, falling back to Jeff's side.

"What's in your bag?" Jeff asked, motioning towards the duffel Jack had slung over his shoulder.

"This?" Jack asked, beaming. "This is my bag of tricks. Lots of nice things inside. I'll have to show you one of these days."

"Sure," Jeff said, looking back at the empty field. Wait-he squinted and then grinned. "Look, Jack. That's Seed Eater."

Jack looked the way Jeff pointed and tilted his head. "And it'll help us?"

"Yeah," Jeff said.

When Seed Eater spotted them, it rose onto its hind legs and said, _Bastard, you are back. This is your friend who will kill the feeders?_

_Yep,_ Jeff said. _His name is Jack. Say hello, Jackie._

_Um, hello. Seed Eater. It's nice to meet you._

Seed Eater made its laughing sound again and Jack leaned away. _This is what you say will kill the feeders?_

_I assume he looks more dangerous when he's mad,_ Jeff said, shrugging.

_I am mad,_ Jack said.

_Oh. Well, he can kill everyone inside,_ Jeff said to Seed Eater. It lowered its head and snuffled against Jack's hair. Jack held very still, raising his chin in a sort of defiance Jeff could empathize with.

_I can and I will,_ Jack said. _I'll kill you, too, if that's what Jeffy wants. Show you how dangerous I am._

_Jack, Seed Eater's on our side, don't threaten it,_ Jeff said.

_I'm dangerous,_ Jack insisted, moving away from Seed Eater to stand in front of Jeff.

_I know,_ Jeff said. _That's what I'm counting on._ He clapped his hands together and took a deep breath. _Alright. Here's our plan. Jack, you can go in first. You can't die, right?_

_Right. But Jeffy-_

_You can clear out the first wave of guards. Those'll probably be the most dangerous, since we don't know where they'll be._

_Yeah, but Jeffy-_

_I'll break the line, Seed Eater, so you can get through. You can come inside with me. I don't want you to kill anyone, but knock them out if you can. You don't know what any of the monster-children look like, and I don't want to risk you hurting one of them. Understand?_

_Yes, Bastard._

_No, Jeff._

Jeff cocked his head, confused. _What? Jack?_

_I said no._

Jeff glowered. _Why the hell? What's the problem? We don't have all day._

Jack took a breath deep enough to visibly lift his shoulders and stood a little taller. _It's a good plan, Jeffy, except for one thing. I don't think it's necessary for you or Seed Eater to go inside. I can kill everyone myself. There's no need to risk you, too._

_You're fucking kidding me._

_No. You're not going inside._

_Is that right?_ Jeff asked, balling his hands into fists. _How are you gonna stop me?_


	27. In Which Jack Doesn't Understand

_It won't be hard,_ Jack said, dropping his bag onto the ground, folding grass beneath it. Rather than look smug, like Jeff expected, like Jeff himself would have looked, he appeared troubled. There was a crease between his eyes, an uneasiness in his footing. But he wasn't lying, Jeff knew that. So why did he look so uncomfortable? Did he see a disadvantage on his side Jeff didn't? Was he scared of Seed Eater? He should be scared of Seed Eater, dammit. _I'd really rather not fight about it._ Fucking right he didn't.

_So fucking sorry,_ Jeff said, slinking closer to Seed Eater. _Seed Eater, keep him away from me._

_Seed Eater, stay out of it,_ Jack corrected, rolling his shoulders. Seed Eater squirmed, rustling its feathers. _This is how we solve things._ I'm _the one killing the-what, feeders? Not Jeff._

_Are you also a Slenderman-child?_ Seed Eater asked. Jeff grasped its feathers and glared.

_Yes,_ Jack said, nodding.

_And you will also give Slenderman a good word for me?_

_Of course._

_You_ traitor, Jeff huffed, inching around Seed Eater's back.

_Come on, Jeffy,_ Jack said, pulling ropes out of his bag. _Don't be a coward. I know you're not._

Jeff was tottering on the edge of cracking. Anger, pain, grief danced around his head and nudged him towards the edge, inviting him to fall and promising it would be better when he climbed back up. He trusted them. They'd never let him down before. But-but he needed to hold it together, for his brothers. They would need him. But fuck, if it wasn't hard keeping it together with Jack urging him to jump, too.

Jack walked towards him and they circled around Seed Eater like children around a table, darting and glaring and tricking. It didn't take long for the rhythm to settle Jeff's mind some, and for him to bolt towards the cellar door. If he could just get inside, Jack would be distracted by the guards and Jeff could slaughter some himself. Jack couldn't understand the _need_ Jeff had to watch the burners die at his hands, the need to taste their blood, to nurse his breaking heart with their agony.

Jack didn't understand, and even if he did, it was rapidly becoming apparent that he didn't care. Jeff got some three strides before Jack teleported and Jeff slammed into his stomach. Jeff backpedaled, but Jack pulled him closer and a rope quickly and deftly secured his wrists. Then, with all the ease of years of practice, Jack swept Jeff's feet out from under him and brought them both to the ground. He pulled Jeff into his lap and trapped his head under his arm before tying his feet. Jeff gnawed on whatever flesh he could reach, snarling and spitting like a furious cat.

Jack readjusted him so Jeff sat in his lap, growling. "There," Jack said, his voice quiet. "Sorry, Jeffy."

Jeff's breath hitched. "Fucking bastard."

Jack hugged him, tight and warm and strong, and then stood, bringing Jeff up with him. Jeff stiffened and bore his teeth and Jack carried him to Seed Eater's side before setting him down. _What are you doing?_ Seed Eater asked as Jack tied Jeff to Seed Eater's leg.

_Keep him here,_ Jack said. _Don't listen to anything he says unless your lives are in danger. In which case, listen to everything he says. But otherwise stay here. Don't move. You hear, Jeffy?_

Jeff hunched his shoulders. He wanted to feel angry-well, he did feel angry. Incredibly angry. But that anger was doing nothing to dampen the humiliation Jack had caused. What was he, a child? He was so fucking weak compared to Jack. What would Eyeless think? Jeff pulled his knees to his chest, almost knocking himself off balance, and rested his forehead against them. He really couldn't do anything right. The world just kept showing him that.

He just wanted Eyeless. He just fucking wanted Eyeless. If it made him weak, if it made him stupid, if it made him crazy-he wanted Eyeless back.

Jack touched the top of his head. "Jeffy?"

Jeff ignored him. Focused on not splintering into little pieces, on not jumping over that ledge, on keeping the black hole in his ribcage tapped down. Breathed.

Jack caught him around the back of the neck and pulled him forward until their foreheads touched, trying to catch his eyes. "Jeffy, it's okay, I promise."

Jeff stared at his shoes.

Jack stroked his hair down. "I'll be right back."

And then he left.

Jeff breathed.


	28. In Which There is Healing

It felt like forever, sitting and breathing in silence. Realistically, it was two hours, tops. The whole thing was dreadfully silent. There were four, maybe five, gunshots through the ordeal. Each one made Jeff flinch and sucked him further into grief. It was dark and cold and lonely and it terrified him. 

When the east sky started to quicken, Jeff saw movement at the cellar door. He glanced up enough to see that it was Jack, bloodstained but easy-footed. A kind of choking fear seized around Jeff’s throat, because  now  was when he would know.  Now  was when he found out how much he should hurt inside, how viciously he should scream, how much blood he should shed.  Now  was when Jack said, “I’m sorry, Jeff, but…”

Jack knelt in front of him. “Jeffy?” Jeff held his breath and waited, looking hard at the grass. “Everybody’s dead, like I said.” Jack’s voice was quiet, cautious. “Do you want to see the others? They’re all with Eyeless.”

Jeff bit the inside of his cheek until he could taste blood.  Eyeless’s body.  He opened his mouth, to ask about them, to say something--but words failed him. Jack touched his cheek. “They want to see you. They’re all terrified.”

Like we could help. Look how weak we are.  That’s  going to comfort them. Jack would do a better job. Eyeless would. For fuck’s sake, just  ask,  just get it over with.  “Eyeless?” he asked, forcing the words through a tired, stumbling mouth. 

“Yeah. You know what happened, right?”

Jeff shuddered hard enough to click his teeth together. “He’s--he’s--is he?” Coherent sentences failed him. 

“He’s hurt pretty bad. He’s sleeping now.”

Jeff felt his entire face loosen. His jaw wanted to drop and his eyes snapped up to look at Jack. “He’s alive?” Jeff heard the shock, the sudden hope, his voice carried. His heart waited anxiously for the confirmation, preening its wings to soar. 

“Yeah, he’s alive.”

Jeff’s heart jumped, swelling with bright joy. He laughed, grinning furiously and shaking his head in disbelief.  Eyeless. Eyeless, Eyeless.  “Well then what are we waiting for?” he demanded, unable to tamper the giddiness in his words. “Untie me and let’s  go. ”

Jack grinned, although Jeff suspected he had no idea why Jeff was so happy, and complied. Jeff jumped to his feet once he was free, ignoring the protest his ankle offered. He could hardly feel it, high as he was on relief and pure, unadulterated happiness.  Eyeless. Eyeless, you fucking bastard, I love you.  He felt lighter than he ever had before and he bolted to the cellar door with Jack on his heels. 

Inside the burning place, bodies littered the halls. Ignoring these, Jeff followed Jack’s instructions and made his way to a large white room guarded by a large white door. He pushed through this and paused only long enough to take in the scene. Rows of clean hospital beds and four of his wonderful, amazing, beautiful brothers. But no BEN. His eyes narrowed and his heart tripped some. “Where’s BEN?”

“He’s okay,” Toby said. “He left through the computers. He promised he’d be back.”

Jeff’s entire body loosened again and he nodded, his grin returning full force. “Damn, but I love you guys.”

He received three exhausted smiles as he made his way to the cot where a long gray body lay.  Eyeless.  He reached out and set his fingers against Eyeless’s forehead, felt the living warmth there, and watched his chest rise and fall.  Up, down, up, down, alive, alive, alive, he’s alive.  Jeff stretched out on the cot next to Eyeless and rested his hand on Eyeless’s heart.  Ba-dump, ba-dump. Bastard, you scared me. 

Laying next to Eyeless, it was almost like the past night had never happened. The warmth, the gentle breath, it was immediate medicine to the black thing under his ribs. It couldn’t kill the nagging knowledge that their fight wasn’t over, yet, though. It did make it seem kind of less important. “How are you guys?” Jeff asked quietly, propping his head up on his elbow so he could see over Eyeless’s body. “D’they burn you?”

“Yeah,” Toby said. 

“All of you?”

“Yeah,” Toby said. “After they took you we heard the fight. But they came back for us way later. It was Hoodie and Masky and then BEN--that’s when he got away--and then me. They put us all together in a big room but we didn’t know where Eyeless was until Jack broke us out and brought us here. What happened? How’d you get out?”

So Jeff briefed them. And then, when he could pry himself away from Eyeless, he looked each of them over. He bandaged Toby’s hands, which he’d been chewing on, as gently as he could, and then looked at the brat’s mark. It was at the base of his neck, and the skin there had been carved away and the muscle underneath burned. But the mark itself was still there, neat and darker, even, than the burnt muscle around it. Jeff clicked his tongue and placed the bandage back over it, carding his fingers through Toby’s messy hair before moving towards Masky and Hoodie. 

Masky looked, to Jeff’s surprise, no worse for wear than the others. He sat still and calm while Jeff looked at his and Hoodie’s marks. He tugged insistently on Jeff’s jean leg when he noticed Jeff was limping. “I was thinking the same thing,” Jack chimed from behind them. “Jeffy, let me see your leg.”

Jeff glared and petted Masky’s and Hoodie’s hair. “I’m still mad at you,” he said. 

“Oh, don’t ruin the moment,” Jack said. “Just come lay up here.”

Masky pushed on Jeff’s back until he huffed and crawled up onto the cot Jack motioned at. He refused to lay down, though. That was just asking too much of him. Jack worked his shoe off and Jeff grit his teeth because the act twisted in ankle around the bullet. After pulling Jeff’s pant leg up, Jack turned to look at the youngest three of their group and asked, “Do we have any clean clothes around here?”

“There’s some in the barn,” Jeff said. He realized his mistake when Toby walked towards the door. “ No ,” he snarled. Toby froze mid-step. “Away from the door.” Toby backed away from the door. “Sit.” Toby sat. “Stay.” Toby nodded. “We stay together from now on. Nobody goes anywhere without everybody. Alright?”

“Jeffy--”

Jeff glared at Jack. “You can do whatever the fuck you want, but they’re staying with me.”

Jack looked at him for a long minute, and then bobbed his head in agreement. “Alright. So what happened to your ankle?”

“They shot me,” Jeff said. “Low caliber, at least. Entry only. The bullet’s stuck in the bone.”

Jack grimaced. “I have no idea what to do.”

“Eyeless will. Wait until he wakes up,” Jeff said.

“Sounds like a plan. But I’m gonna clean it at least.” Jack set about dumping disinfectant over the wound, probing it for no damn reason, and wrapping it in a tight bandage. Basically, tormenting Jeff. When he finished, he stepped back and frowned. “Take your shirt off.”

“Make me,” Jeff snapped. But he peeled it off even as he said it, because the blood was crusty and rubbed against his skin and he knew some of it was Eyeless’s and that creeped him out. He dropped his shirt onto the floor and stretched. 

“Go to sleep,” Jack suggested.

“That’s  my  line, don’t touch it,” Jeff muttered, but he crept back to Eyeless’s side.

“Maybe you should sleep on a different cot,” Jack said. Jeff bore his teeth. “I mean, you don’t want to hurt him if you move around.” Jeff pushed another cot right up against Eyeless’s and lay on it, reaching through the bars to touch Eyeless’s chest where it rose and fell with beautiful consistency. He covered his eyes with his arm and tried to shut his mind down. 

“Everybody stays here,” he murmured. He received four affirmatives and allowed himself to sleep.   



	29. In Which Jack is Hopeless

"Jeff? Jeff. Hey, man, you have to wake up."

Had Jeff's eyes been shut, they would have snapped open. As it was, they only lit up with irritation. "The hell you want?" he growled, as Toby's face came into focus. With it came the memories and he tightened his grip on Eyeless's hand. His fingers danced with pins and needles. How long had they let him sleep?

"Um, well, see, Jack went out to the barn. Uh, yeah, and that was a long time ago. He hasn't come back and-"

"Why the hell haven't you gone to check on him?" Jeff hissed, reluctantly releasing Eyeless and hopping off of his cot. He yanked his shoes and his hoodie on and spun around to face the others.

"Well you said that we had to stay together."

"Oh. Dammit, Toby."

"Sorry, Jeff. Can we go see if he's okay?"

"Absolutely _fucking_ not. You're staying right here, in this room, unless your lives are threatened." Jeff nodded towards Eyeless and said, "Watch him. I'll be back."

Outside of the compound, the sun was dropping towards the western horizon, the wind was dying down, and the air was cold and crisp and still. It was eerily quiet, and Jeff's step crunched unevenly on the ground as he strode towards the barn. One third of him worried that Jack had up and abandoned them because Jeff was an ass, another third worried that something else (like one of the burners, which would create a whole hoard of new problems) had gotten Jack, and the final third worried that the faceless dog had gotten Jack. So when he entered the barn, two-thirds of him was hoping and the other third was dreading that he would find Jack and the dog.

He found Jack and the dog.

The dog hadn't changed at all. It stood, still and silent and looming. It didn't even spare him a glance when he wormed his way through the barn doors, which relieved him. Jack, on the other hand, looked small. He had crammed himself into a far corner of the building, his knees pulled tight to his chest and his face buried again them. The only reason Jeff caught sight of him was because of his white stripes. He, like the dog, was entirely noiseless. Or, at least until Jeff called his name. "Jack?" It was hardly more than a whisper, and even that felt like a violation of the empty nighttime.

Jack's head snapped up, his eyes wide and dark with swollen pupil. "Jeff?" He looked confused, more than anything else. Small and spooked and confused. _This was the man? This was the man that killed the burners? The man who defeated us? Really, this was the man?_ Jeff took a few steps closer, warily watching the dog. Even as he did so, Jack tore his gaze away from Jeff and looked at the animal with a hopeful expression. "Do you see it?" Jack asked.

"The dog? Yeah. It's a pain in the ass. Come on. If you get away from it you'll think better," Jeff said, pausing when he was some ten feet away from the dog and Jack.

Jack glanced towards Jeff and then the dog, his mouth pressing into a thin line. _He's hearing things we don't,_ Jeff's mind suggested (unhelpfully) as he wavered on the verge of stepping closer. _Of course,_ Jeff thought back. _That's called thinking. Lots of people do it. Probably not thinking good things, though. How do we fix it? How did he fix it for us?_

_He gave us hope._

_There, now. Why can't you be that useful all the time?_

"Jack, whatever you're thinking, it's the dog," Jeff said. "That's how it works. It makes you think bad things. But if you get away from it you'll feel better. Come on." He took another few cautious steps and held out his hand.

Jack's eyes flickered with something-was it hope? Please?-and then shuttered again. "No." His voice was as monotone as his color was monochrome. "You're not real." Jeff was pretty damn sure he was real. He told Jack so. Jack denied it. "You're not. None of you are real. I'm alone. I made you up. You're just-you're just fantasies, because I'm miserable and pathetic and stuck in this _fucking_ box for the rest of my _fucking_ life."

"Box? You're in a barn, not a box."

"Shut up. None of it's real, none of this. It was-it was nice for a little while, pretending. But I guess we all have to wake up at some point in time." His lips pulled back, displaying vicious rows of pointed teeth. Jack teeth, Jeff decided. All Jacks had pointy teeth like that. "It's not fucking fair, though."

"Life's not fair," Jeff said. "But that's not the point. The point is I am real, and we are in a barn, and you've got-you've got three little brothers worried sick inside the burning place."

"No I don't," Jack hissed. The dog leaned up against him like an old friend and Jeff glowered at it, crossing the final steps that seperated him from Jack and crouching beside him.

"Yes, you do," Jeff insisted, pressing their sides together. Jack was warm and solid and this was the closest Jeff had been to him without being furious. "I'm real, right? I feel real."

"Of course," Jack said, turning his head away. "I've got a good imagination." He laughed bitterly.

Jeff sighed irritably. "Alright, fine. So if I'm not real let's take it from the top. What's eating you? What's the damn dog chewing on?"

Jack was silent for a minute, and Jeff let him be silent. He even inched closer, resting his chin on top of Jack's shoulder. Pressure always comforted Jeff-a solid, firm reality check-so why shouldn't it help Jack? It couldn't hurt, right? Jack slanted his face back and Jeff could see the gleam of his eyes in the weak light from outside. "I'm alone," Jack said. His voice had lost its rough, angry edge. It sounded childlike now-mournful and scared.

"Oh," Jeff said. "Why?"

"Why shouldn't I be? I'm fucking horrible. You name any bad thing and I've done it. I've done good things, too, but I can't make them work. Nothing works because I'm me, I'm the problem. That's why I'm in this box. It's-it's probably better in here. But-but it's so lonely." Jack turned his face more, until their cheeks touched, and Jeff could see the torment in his eyes. "It's so dark and so quiet and so lonely. There's no one here but me. And my dreams. But they're falling apart. I-I can't help but wonder what I'll do when they're all gone, and eternity hasn't even started yet. Just-just thinking about it."

Jack shook his head and Jeff saw a muscle jump in his jaw. "It t-terrifies me. It'll be dark and miserable for millions and millions and millions of years-but when I look back, you know what? I'll know that despite all the years, I'm no closer to the end then when I started. It's hell for all eternity. And I tried. I tried to be good, to be nice, b-but-and then I tried to be bad, to be evil, and it doesn't work either. There is nothing I can do to escape this _motherfucking_ hell. I'm my own hell. Shit, shit, shit."

Jeff felt shaking seize Jack's body and it was such a pathetic sight it wrenched his heart. _This is the man? No lies?_ The raw terror in Jack's eyes, in his muscles and his breath, it made Jeff fearful. For Jack, for himself, for everyone, he didn't know. It was horrifying, what Jack described. But not true. It couldn't be true, because they weren't even _in_ a fucking box. It was all the fucking dog's fault.

Jeff pulled back his good foot and attempted to kick the dog in its non-exsistent face. His foot passed straight through it and he growled. And then he had no idea what to do. The weight of Jack's hopelessness pressed onto his shoulders and shortened his breaths. And then he got an idea, and what the hell'd he have to lose? Jack was family now, right? He'd earned his keep?

Jeff pushed away from Jack, and Jack let him go with a short, dry sob. _This is the man._ Jeff was quick to turn around and pry Jack's arms away from his chest, inserting himself into the gap there and winding his own arms around Jack's back. It wasn't so much a hug as clinging tightly to Jack in an awkward position. But Jack clutched Jeff back, pulling them closer together, all life and sorrow and help, so it was okay. It was warm and strong and safe.

He didn't even notice when the faceless dog disappeared.


	30. In Which Jack is Polite and There Are Others

"Jeffy?"

"Mm?"

"Thanks."

"Mm."

"Did the dog get you, too? Before you called me yesterday--or the day before, or whatever day it was?"

"Mm-hm."

"Oh. What did--what'd you think? I mean--like, um, what was it chewing on in you?"

Jeff shrugged his shoulders, felt the press of Jack's arms weighing them down. "Why do we have to talk about the fucking dog? What if it comes back? Hey, that's a good point. We should go back inside. Did you pick out any clothes?"

Jack huffed and tightened his grip--which was already tight, but whatever. It wasn't a bad tight. "I like it out here."

Jeff rolled his eyes. "Right. Wait until the dog comes back."

"That's alright," Jack said, ruffling his hair. "I have Jeffy. Damn, but I hate that dog. Really fucks with you."

"Mm. Come on." Jeff pried himself out of Jack's arms--although he got the feeling Jack wasn't holding as determinedly as he could've--and stretched until his back popped. "So, clothes?"

"No," Jack said. "Didn't get that far."

"'kay." Jeff walked to the pile of their things and glared at it. "It's gonna be a bitch to get all this stuff back to the warehouse."

"Are we going back to the warehouse?" Jack asked, coming to stand beside him.

"Dunno. Haven't thought that far ahead, but I assume that's what Eye will want. And he, at least, needs to recover before we make any big moves. But the burners knew where the house was--hum. We might need to move anyway. Well, we can think about it later. Grab me one of the bags," Jeff said. Jack brought him Eyeless's bag and Jeff found six pairs of jeans and six shirts. Then, for comfort purposes, he stuffed all of their hoodies and jackets on top of the other clothes. Then he crammed food in. Then cellphones. And then the bag was fuller than full and wouldn't zip, so Jeff carried it bridal style, until Jack stole it from him.

"Hey," Jeff protested, snatching at the straps.

Jack danced out of his reach. "Hey yourself. It's impolite to let a wounded guy carry a bag."

"It's just my ankle," Jeff snapped. "And I want to carry it."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No, Jeffrey."

"Yes, Laughing Jack."

"Would it make you feel better if I let you carry it inside the room?"

"That doesn't count."

Jack rolled his eyes. "You were just letting me do my job," he said. "They won't think less of you for that. Besides, you're boss-man. You don't do the labor."

"That what shitty bosses do. Real leaders lead by example."

"While I'm glad you think that, you're not carrying this bag. End of discussion." And Jack started walking. Jeff offered token protests, but really, it seemed like such a minor loss after the previous months. After losing Slenderman (not that Jeff cared, Slenderman was a motherfucker) and nearly losing Eyeless, losing a petty pride-fight seemed like nothing. So he huffed but he followed Jack back into the burning place with mellow, annoyed acceptance.

"Finally," Toby cried when they walked through the door, his eyes wide. "We thought you were dead or something, bros."

Jack dropped the bag onto a cot. Jeff cuffed Toby over the head and said, "Nothing can kill us, brat. We're invincible."

"Sure," Hoodie said, grouchily hunching his shoulders. "What took so long, then?"

Jeff shrugged. "There's a guard in the barn."

"What?" Hoodie's eyes narrowed. "Did it get you guys?"

"It's not, like, a real guard-guard. It's a dog."

"Did it get you?"

"No, it's not like a dog-dog. It's...weird. Anyway, it doesn't physically hurt people, it just incapacitates them for a little. Me and Jack are fine."

"And we brought food," Jack said, pulling out bags of chips. He was hurriedly swarmed. Jeff sat cross-legged on the cot beside Eyeless, debating the merits of waking him up to eat, holding his hand, and munching on Doritos. When Jack tossed him pants and a clean gray shirt, he readily changed.

"So what about the others?" Toby asked after a few minutes, licking the bandages over his fingers.

"Others?" Jeff asked.

"Yeah," Toby said. "Didn't we--huh, no, we didn't. Damn. Sorry, we kinda forgot, I guess. You fell asleep and then you went to get Jack, there wasn't a lot of--"

"Toby, what the hell're you talking about?"

"There are others here," Toby explained. "More proxies."

"Oh, yeah," Jeff said, nodding. "Seed Eater was saying something about that."

"Seed Eater?"

"Jack didn't tell you?"

"No, he went out to the barn, remember?"

"He was out there that long?"

"Uh, yeah," Toby said. "What's Seed Eater?"

"Nevermind, tell me about the others," Jeff said, leaning forward and crumpling his empty chip bag.

"They're all over the place," Jack said, scrunching himself up on the cot, beside Jeff. "Different rooms for different masters, as far as I can tell. Sometimes more than one room, depending on how many proxies there are. Like us. We were all in one room, but they had three rooms for all Slender's proxies."

"Wait, wait, wait--there are more of fucking Slenderman's proxies here?" Jeff asked.

"Yeah," Jack said. "There--there's all of them here."

"All?"

"Yep. Every damn one," Jack confirmed. "All alive. Don't worry. They say they haven't been here long."

"Why aren't they in here?" Jeff asked. "Why haven't I talked to them?"

"Eyeless is hurt," Toby reminded them.

"Yeah," Jack said. "I've found out that you all get rather...territorial...when somebody's injured."

"I mean, I like them all just fine," Toby said. "But I don't trust them for nothin'. We didn't want them around Eyeless. They'd've probably woken him up or something. They're bastards to him, y'know?"

"We can take you to see them," Jack offered. "You want to see all of them or just Slenderman's?"

"What about Liu? Is he here?"

"Yeah," Jack said.

"Let's start there."  



	31. In Which There Are Seventy-eight and Speculations

Liu didn't look much more different than the last time Jeff had seen him. His hair was a little longer, a little more tangled. His eyes were sharp and alert, but there were shadows under them, and his skin was paler, his face leaner. The scar of a smile stood out more prominently.

They kept him, with several other of fucking Slender's newbie proxies, in a room similiar to the one Jeff had been taken to after the burning. The lock on the door had been wrenched away and the entryway cleared of bodies. When Jeff entered the room, Liu offered a surprised, tiny nod. "Nice to see you again," he said, dryly. "Took you damn well long enough."

Jeff wrinkled his nose. "So sorry, brother dearest."

"Don't call me that," Liu said.

"Bitchy today, aren't we?" Jeff asked. Counting the heads around the room, he came up with eight. All of them were vaguely familiar, but he could only name two faces: Liu's and Josh's, both of which he had scarred and stood out cleanly in his memory. "But I didn't come here to fight. I just want to get out of here, and I'd think our best bet is working together. So how'd you guys get here in the first place?"

Liu scooted back on his bed until he leaned against the wall. "We woke up a couple months ago and you guys were gone. Slender told us not to mention it, so we didn't. We did normal stuff-or, I mean, I guess it was normal. It was our normal. I dunno what you guys' normal was. But then, maybe two weeks after that, this guy Clint disappeared. The same day that happened Slender set us up in the woods with guns and stuff. He told us to shoot anyone who came inside the forest unless they were a proxy and we could see their mark. If we doubted, we would shoot.

"A whole bunch of people came. We killed a lot, but they had guns too. Fucking tranqs. I dunno what happened after that, but when I woke up for good we were in this concrete room. Then they did something to our marks and sent us here. Every week they burn us again." Liu let his head rest against the wall. "Glad they're dead. Motherfuckers. So what's your side?"

Jeff told their story as briefly as possible, with assistance from Jack. And then they started questioning each other, eyes bright and curious. "Why hasn't Slenderman come yet?" Josh asked. "Or will he?"

"As far as I'm concerned," Jeff said, "fucking Slenderman is out of the equation. He sent you all out to do his dirty work and die. He sent us out to die, period, so-"

"Maybe he didn't," Jack said. All eyes swiveled to him. "I mean," he turned to look at Jeff, "he sent us south and this place is up north, right? So he sent us away from them. Maybe he was trying to save us?"

"That doesn't make any sense. Why us, but not them?" Jeff asked, jerking his chin at the newbies.

"You guys are his orginals, maybe he wanted to keep you safe," Jack suggested.

"Slender doesn't give a shit about us, and you're not an orginal," Jeff said. "So why would he send you?"

Jack drummed his fingers against the wall. "I mean, I think I know why. He sent you guys because you're his originals-and maybe there's no emotional attachment, but you're also the most dangerous. He probably didn't want to lose his best stock. And then he sent me because I'm dangerous, too. Do you think the burners wanted to use us for something? Against masters? And that's why Slender didn't want them to get ahold of us?"

"Maybe," Liu said, chewing on his bottom lip. "But why did they burn our marks?"

"They were trying to get them to go away," Josh said. "Remember how they said to fight the thing in your head? Maybe they were trying to get rid of Slenderman."

"Yeah," one of the other proxies agreed. "To free us."

"But why?" Jeff asked. "Out of the goodness of their hearts?"

"Probably not," Liu said. He cracked his knuckles thoughtfully. "But maybe. We can't totally discount it. Maybe it's a religious thing. What about the others here? Have they actually succeeded in unbinding a proxy?"

"I don't think so," Jeff said. "There's this creature they keep outside, Seed Eater, and it's eaten some dead proxies before. I think that after enough burning, we just die. So why would they keep trying?"

"It must be a new practice," Jack said. "They're still experimenting, trying to get it right. But if they _have_ unbound one, how would we know? Would they keep them here?"

"Records," a proxy suggested. "They probably have records around here. I mean, it's not totally professional or anything, but they gotta keep records. Especially if they're just screwing around right now. Should we find them?"

"That's probably a good idea," Liu said. "We should look for them tommorow. Sleep now."

Jeff scoffed. "I just woke up. I'm going to go talk to some others. We can rummage around for records tommorow, I guess."

"Yeah," Liu agreed, urging him rather eagerly towards the door. "See you tomorrow."

"Yep," Jeff said. When he and Jack were back outside of the room, he said, "You don't have to come with me. I don't need a damn bodyguard. And you haven't slept. Go watch the others. Come get me if Eyeless wakes up."

Jack eyeballed him. "You sure?"

"Hundred and one percent. It shouldn't take too long anyways."

"Yeah, but everybody's probably about down for the night," Jack reminded. "Can't it wait until morning?"

"We have records to go through tommorow. Who knows who long that'll take? And if we leave all these bodies laying around they'll rot. We should feed them to Seed Eater in the morning."

Jack paused, rolled his shoulders, looked down at Jeff. "Okay, how about we _compromise_?" He clapped his hands together and said the word like it held some magical quality and was made of rainbows and unicorn snot.

Jeff crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels. "Depends on the compromise."

"How about me and you go around to all the rooms tonight and just get a head count and master names? Then we go back to our room and you can watch Eyeless while the rest of us sleep, in case he needs something. Then in the morning we get rid of the bodies and go through the records. And you can send somebody around to talk with the other proxies, or you can go around yourself or whatever."

Jeff hummed. "Fine. But I reserve the right to improvise at any given time."

"Deal." Jack nodded desicively. "So let's go count some proxies."

By midnight they'd counted seventy-eight proxies out of thirteen masters, most promintently Slenderman's and Trenderman's. Jeff had been surprised to see Trenderman's proxies, but then he didn't know why. If the burners could get Slenderman's proxies, why shouldn't they be able to get Trenderman's? But it was a mostly unpleasant suprise. Jane was in the second room they checked. "Jeff?" she had asked. And then, after she'd stared a moment longer, she started squealing and flung herself at him. "Jeffy, oh Jeffy, they wouldn't let me see you, how are you? Where've you been? Who is this? Are you all right? Why are you limping? Oh, _darling,_ I can't _even."_

"Stay away from me, bitch," he had snapped, squirming away and placing himself behind Jack. "Stay down. Down, girl, down. I swear if you don't-"

"Oh, Jeffy."

And she had begged to go with them to count the other proxies. Begged and pleaded and cried and clung until Jack had finally snarled at her. Then she had shut up and Jeff had started laughing, which apparently confused them all. But they were all wolves. Really, they were. "Jeff?" Jack had asked.

"W-wha?" he had managed, through fits of giggles.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing. Just s-something a l-long t-time ago. Wolves."

Jack cocked his head. Jeff laughed harder. Jack beamed, appearing delighted. "Oh, is it that thing Slenderman said? About the old society stuff?"

Jeff nodded hard, gasping for breath. Jane stared at him like he was crazy. That sobered him some. He _wasn't_. After a final, settling breath, he wiped at his eyes, winced, and said, "Okay. Yeah. I'm fine. Alright." He straightened his shirt. "How many in here?"

Jack was still grinning like an idiot as he said, "Seven."

But Jack's face had rapidly changed to a fierce glower when Jane attempted to follow them out of the room. And Jane had quailed. _Really?_ Jeff thought as they moved into the next room. _Jack? Scary? Maybe if we squint really hard._ He just seemed too easy-going and overly-affectionate, like a big dog. Well, a big dog could probably be scary to strangers, he guessed. Especially if it bore its teeth-and Jack had a lot more teeth than a dog.

After all the proxies had been tallied and master names and corresponding room numbers written down, Jeff and Jack returned to their room. Masky and Hoodie were tangled together on a cot, and Toby sat on a cot beside Eyeless, humming to himself. He grinned and waved when they entered. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," Jack and Jeff said.

"You can go to bed," Jeff said. "I'll watch Eyeless."

Toby nodded and curled up on his cot, pulling his blue hood up over his head and closing his eyes. Jack scooped his goggles up off of the floor and placed them on the counter near the doorway before sprawling out on his own cot. "Night," he said.

Jeff rested his hand against Eyeless's chest. "Night," he murmured. He leaned his head back against the wall and waited for the dawn, for records and corpse-moving and information. And breakfast. Breakfast would be nice.


	32. In Which There Are Records

The only way he knew Eyeless was awake was because his breathing shifted under Jeff's hand. "Eye?" he whispered.

Eyeless had turned his head towards Jeff, eyebrows drawn together. In the dim light from outside the door, Jeff could see his nostrils flaring. "Jeff?"

"Yeah," Jeff said. He crawled into Eyeless's cot and lay beside him. "Dammit, you fucking scared me."

Eyeless's hand came up to cradle the back of his head. Fingers swept lightly, curiously, over his temples and his jawline and his ears. "I scared you? I was worried sick this entire time. Thought I'd sent you to die. When'd you get back?"

"Just last night," Jeff said, pressing into the living warmth of Eyeless's hand. "I'm fine. How do you feel, Mr. I'll-Get-Shot-Please-and-Thank-You?"

Eyeless hummed lazily, tracing the gaps beside Jeff's mouth. "Okay. My stomach's killing me."

"Yeah, getting shot does that to you," Jeff agreed. "They have any painkillers around here?"

"I don't know. I'm stuck in this room. Wait--how'd you get back? Did they catch you or--?"

Jeff heard the flicker of hope in Eyeless's voice and grinned. "Catch me? Ha. You're funny. No, I found Jack and brought him back. Anyone who's not a proxy is currently dead and rotting in the hallway. We're moving bodies tomorrow morning."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. We're safe now. Your lack of faith in me hurts, Eye, it really does."

Eyeless grinned. "Lack of faith. You bastard, I knew you could do it. Mostly. You think I would risk your life otherwise?"

"I dunno. Maybe," Jeff said, shrugging.

Eyeless shook his head. "Nope. You're my little enforcer, Jeffy, what would I do without you?"

"Hm. Get your ass kicked, probably," Jeff said.

Eyeless growled quietly. "Picking on a shot guy, way to go."

"Learned from the best."

"Shut up. I would hug you, but my stomach."

"It's fine," Jeff said, pressing his face into Eyeless's neck when Eyeless finally dropped his hand. "I'm just glad you're alive."

"I'm glad you're alive, too," Eyeless said. There was a pause. Then: "Thanks for everything."

Jeff curled his fingers into the collar of Eyeless's shirt and nodded. "Yeah."

Eyeless hummed contentedly. "Are you going to sleep?"

"No," Jeff said. "I slept all day yesterday. You should sleep, though."

"Okay. Wake me up in the morning. I want to see everybody."

"Will do," Jeff said. "Night."

"G'night."

Morning came like molasses: slow and heavy. By five Jeff was bored out of his skull. By six he was getting annoyed because everyone was still sleeping. By seven he was starving to death. By eight he woke them all up, ignoring their groans and complaints. He directed them to Eyeless (that cheered them up) and then went looking for a microwave so he could heat up some cans of Spaghetti Os. It took a lot of wandering, but he did eventually find it and made up six bowls.

The number of bowls irritated him. The number was wrong. The number should be seven. One two three four five six seven. _BEN, little buddy, you can come back anytime,_ he thought. Where had BEN gone? Was he coming back? Had he gone to get help? Had he run back to Slenderman? What would Slenderman do to him if he had gone back? Had he just abandoned them? No, no, he was coming back. He had to. BEN was like a puppy dog. Stupidly loyal. And not very safe away from home and off a leash. Well, at least he couldn't die. Being a computer virus-ghost-thing had its benefits, Jeff guessed. Not that he'd want to be one. Live forever? No thank you.

Aftering eyeing the coffee maker on the counter, Jeff rummaged through the cabinets above the microwave and yes sirree he found coffee. Some eight minutes later and he found himself with a problem. He was a normal, whole person. He had two arms, ten fingers, two legs, ten toes. Six bowls of Spaghetti Os, six styrofoam cups of coffee, about a hundred packets of sugar and tiny bowls of creamer, and no hoodie pockets to stuff them into. And a laziness that told him making two trips was unacceptable.

So, he improvised. Let it never be said that Jeff the Killer couldn't think outside the box. He broke off the cabinet doors and set the bowls on one and the cups on the other, stacking the sugar and creamer around the cups. Then, very, very carefully, he balanced each on an arm and headed back to the room. He stepped as steadily as he could, and it was one of the few times he was grateful for his height. It put his center of balance closer to the ground. Made the whole process that little bit easier.

Then he was almost at the door and feeling rather cocky about his accomplishment. Like, waiters did it all the time, but this was his first time and he'd done it perfectly. He was just that amazing. Now he only had to get the door open. He knocked on it with his head and then scrambled backwards. But not fast enough. Of course not.

The door crashed into the tray of coffee (of course it fucking did), soaking his shirt and sending little signals up to his brain that screamed in tiny, jabbering voices that _it hurts it hurts it hurts it motherfucking hurts._

He nearly dropped the tray of Spaghetti Os, too, but he stopped himself at the last second and focused on breathing and hopping through the pain. _It's not as bad as real fire, it's not as bad as real fire, at least it's not that hot, not that hot, not burning us_. He was fully prepared to rip whoever had opened the door a new one, but then he saw who had opened the door.

Masky's eyes were wide and focused on the damp part of Jeff's shirt, but then his eyes snapped up to Jeff's face and he mouthed _so sorry_ and grabbed the tray of Spaghetti Os, rushing them inside. Jeff, with his arms freed, tore off his shirt and wiped the coffee from his skin with the dry places. "Damn," Eyeless said. "Did it burn you?"

"Nothing bad," Jeff said. "It's fine, Mask. Don't look like that."

Masky had acquired a wretchedly guilty look and went to pick up some of the cups, but Hoodie shook his head and squished him to his chest. "Don't bother. We aren't going to be here that long, are we?"

Jeff stepped inside the room and pulled the door closed. "Dunno. Eye? Seriously, Masky. I'm okay. It's just coffee. I'm not mad."

"You're never mad at him," Toby grumbled. "You like him better than me."

"I like him so much better than you it's not even a comparison," Jeff agreed, but as he walked by he ruffled Toby's shaggy hair. "Kidding," he muttered, because leaving it out there alone felt like lying.

"I don't know how long we're staying," Eyeless said. "I mean, it could be compromised at any time, right? We don't know if there's more burners or not. You're going through records today?"

"Yeah," Jeff said. "But I brought breakfast first."

Once breakfast had been readily scarfed and savored as their first warm meal in days, Jeff left Masky to watch Eyeless and the rest of them went to look through records. Jack showed them where the main office was and they sighed at the sight of hundreds of manilla folders. Going through them was not an organized process. Jeff was damn sure he read the same form about ten times, because it kept getting read by somebody else and thrown back into the "Jeff needs to look at" pile. Then he would read it and put it in the read pile, and then the read pile would get kicked over and the process would repeat.

Jeff kept himself and his little group going through the files (they were the only ones he trusted not to fuck with or lie about them) and sent Liu's and Jane's groups around to take down proxy names and homes and stories. Any proxies that had been spoken to already he charged to move corpses outside to Seed Eater's field. He had to show them that Seed Eater wouldn't eat them about twenty times before they would go close, but they eventually did.

He decided he despised administration work. This was what Eyeless was for. Jeff's patience wore thin rapidly, whereas Eyeless's was almost infinite. Anytime he was sitting down to read through records, he'd have to answer about a million questions from the interviewing groups and his own group, and less, but still some, from the body-moving group. What was hard about moving bodies? Seriously?

And then, when a good amount of the papers had been looked through, he decided to look at digital records. He refused to bring in outsiders to look at those, so he split his own group down further and the work was gratingly slow. And by the end of it, dread was forming in his stomach.

There was nothing good in those records. Nothing good at all.


	33. In Which There is Briefing

When they got to the room they found Eyeless sleeping, his hoodie balled up against his chest his face buried against it. Masky sat on the cot beside him, playing on his phone. He looked up and waved when the opened the door. "Hey," Jeff said. "He found his hoodie?"

Masky nodded. Hoodie dropped his chin on Masky's shoulder. "Oh, I hate that game," he muttered. Masky stuck his tongue out and continued to play it.

"What game?" Toby asked.

"The piano one," Hoodie said. "With the colors."

"I'm actually good at that game," Jeff said. "What's your high score?" Masky tapped on his screen and then flipped his phone around. "Nevermind," Jeff said. "I suck at that game." Masky grinned cheekily.

"Should we wake him up?" Jack said, gesturing towards Eyeless.

Jeff's mood dropped again. "Probably should," he said. "He'll want to know."

Eyeless wasn't easy to wake up. Jeff had a theory that this was because to have heightened senses and live with a mansion full of male serial killers, you would have to have some serious shut-down skills. It took about five jabs to Eyeless's face to wake him up. "Good morning sunshine," Jeff said.

Eyeless huffed. "I'll kill you."

"Yeah, later," Jeff said. "Bad news."

That woke him up. He struggled into a sitting position and said, "Dammit. What kind of bad?"

Jeff thought a moment, tilting his head. "Um--gonna say it's an eight point five kind of bad. Not immediate."

"Tell."

Jeff took a seat on Eyeless's cot and leaned back on his hands. "We've gone through all the records we can access. There are probably some digital left, but they're password protected. If BEN gets back soon maybe we can get into them. Anyway, according to our paper files, though, there are more burner bases. This is just a tiny one. There are approximately eleven more bases. The largest is in Alaska."

"Why so far?"

"I'm getting there, calm your tits. So all the bases are in out-of-the-way locations, probably so people can't find them. It's not an official organization, but it's got a lot of underground support and members. Think the KKK, except for monsters and proxies."

"How many proxies are here, anyway?"

"Didn't Liu or Jane talk to you?"

"Liu and Jane are here?"

"Oh. Well, there's seventy-eight proxies out of thirteen masters. That's including everybody from the Mansion."

"Everybody?"

"Even Smiledog and the Rake," Jeff said. "The Rake ran off when we let him out, though. Who knows where he's at now. The rest of the proxies are still here. They seem willing to help and thus far have accepted our group as the bosses. Don't how long it'll last, but I'll take it while it's there."

Eyeless nodded. "So why are they all here?"

"Eradicating Monsters and Freeing Proxies," Jeff said. "EMFP. The burners' official name. They locate monster homes by tracking recent killings and going off of that. Then they use these weird devices to detect dark presences or whatever. From what we can tell they only work on inherently dark creatures, like Slenderman. Demons, malevolent ghosts, whatever. Supernatural dark creatures. Sort of like EMPs, I guess. They're called Dark Presence Trackers. Seriously, these names are super clever."

"Would they work on Jack or BEN?" Eyeless asked.

"I dunno," Jeff said. "BEN, probably not. He's just like us, except--well, pixelated and ghosty. Jack--what are you? Are you a demon?"

"Me?" Jack asked, his eyes widening. "No, I, um, I don't think so. I wasn't supposed to be."

"We can test them later," Jeff said. "They're all still here. Right, so the EMFP has twelve bases. Each of these bases has a team of administrators, and under them there are volunteer workers. A lot of the time the administrators hire educated people, like doctors--like Burns--because they don't want to kill the proxies, they just want to free them."

"That's impossible," Eyeless said.

"I know," Jeff said. "But they don't. The organization's still pretty new. They're testing out all kinds of shit. Experimenting. There are four different procedures right now. Three bases are using the same one as here. They cut the top layer of skin and muscle out over the mark, and then they burn it to try and keep it from reforming, to scar it over, you know."

Eyeless scoffed. "Yeah, that works."

"Lots of proxies have been dying. They're feeding them to Seed Eater--that's this creature thing outside, he's cool. He wants to help."

"But he eats us?"

"Only dead us," Jeff corrected. "Anyway, they've being keeping records of the experimental results. It seems like the proxies in bases One, Five, and Nine are dying fastest. They make little adjustments to try and keep them alive, but--well, it doesn't work. It's pretty horrific."

"Yeah," Toby jumped in. Jeff let him, since he was the one who'd done the research on the procedures. "They starve you for, like, two weeks. And then they cut off the skin on your forehead, your shoulders, and your chest, like the places where Catholics touch when they cross themselves. And they also carve your mark out and pack all the raw places with salt and sew you back up. And then they lock you in a room with lots of crosses and leave you alone. They all die really quick."

"That's horrible," Eyeless said. "Where are the masters?"

"We think we've figured that out," Jeff said, his voice jumping in excitement. Because they'd figured it out, hadn't they? Why Slenderman had sent them away, why he hadn't come for them. He hadn't betrayed them. He'd saved them. He loved them. _Not so fast,_ he reminded himself. _That's just a theory. Not proven. Don't get your hopes up._ "You know how demons are hurt by holy water or salt or stuff?"

"Yeah," Eyeless said.

"Outside of the bases there's a salt-silver line. At least, that's what Seed Eater calls it. There could be more stuff in it besides salt and silver. But he can't cross it, so we think that maybe that's what's keeping the masters away."

"So--so Slender could want to come for us but he can't?" Eyeless asked.

"Maybe," Jeff said slowly. "Only maybe."

Eyeless grinned wildly. "Amazing. Keep going."

"So the EMFP think that they're doing a good thing by freeing proxies, making them normal again, except the marks keep coming back. So they've started shifting their goals. There're ideas written out about how to kill the masters, and how that will free the proxies. And they think that as long as they keep the proxies, the masters will be weaker and easier to kill," Jeff said.

"So they've been forming a fighting force," Jack said. "It's still a really new thing, but the goal of the team is to dispatch of monsters. Holy water, exorcisms, that kind of thing. Once the masters are dead, the proxies will be put into rehabilitation and eventually integrated into the organization. They seem to think that being a proxy is a forced thing, not a choice. They think once we're freed we'll side with them."

Eyeless shook his head in disbelief. "How much different are they than monsters, really?"

"Right," Hoodie said. "At least Slenderman never burned us or starved us or cut us."

"Yeah," BEN said. "He tried to protect us."


	34. In Which the Wind Scatters the Line

There was silence for a second, and then Eyeless said,, his voice incredulous, "BEN?"

"Who else?" BEN asked cheerfully, pulling the door shut behind him.

And that was the trigger. The group swarmed him. They pushed, pulled, ruffled hair, looked for wounds, questioned, with all the joy of children. "BEN, where— BEN, when— BEN, why— BEN, who— BEN, how— BEN, are— ?"

"Alright, alright, get off of him. Down, boys," Eyeless ordered, although there was laughter in his voice. "BEN, buddy, where've you been?"

BEN grinned and trotted to Eyeless. "Slenderman's," he said. "What, you aren't gonna get up and say hi?" 

"He got shot," Jeff said. "He's not— Eyeless, dammit. Lay down."

"Sorry, BEN," Eyeless said sheepishly, his cheeks the faintest pink under his gray skin. "I got shot."

"How the hell?"

"Long story. You tell us yours first. You were at Slenderman's? How? Why?" Eyeless asked.

BEN hopped onto a cot and swung his legs. "So I went out of here through the computers, right? It took for-freaking-ever to find the right wires and all that crap, but I got to Araville and then I walked to Slender's. Sucks that the Mansion is self-sufficient, sometimes. It was like twenty miles. My legs are still killing me. Would've been helluva lot easier if we had wires closer to the town or something.  Anyway, so I got there and I found Slender. He was really surprised to see me. And shit, guys, I know we've gotten used to it now but our heads are so empty. I got to talk with him a little and now he's not there and it's really bothering me."

"Poor fucking baby," Jeff said, rolling his hand in a go-on gesture.

"So he was really surprised and all," BEN said. "And he said he knew we were all still alive and where we were, but he couldn't go to us, because there's this line outside that keeps evil things away."

"The salt-silver line," Toby said.

"Uh, sure," BEN said. "And the line also keeps him from communicating with us, or he would've. In fact, he's been planning on how to get us out. When I found him he was busy calling back all the proxies he could. Most of us stayed at the Mansion, but there're a few with him already. He's moving away from the Mansion for a little while once they're all there, so they don't get caught, because the people here have, like, trackers. He was pretty nervous about staying at the Mansion for just that long, but he said it’s where most of his other proxies and friends and stuff would know how to get to.  He's going to go find the other masters. They're all working together." BEN grinned wickedly. "Isn't it great? They'll show those sons of bitches not to mess with their proxies."

"They don't have to fight here," Jack said. "Everybody's already dead."

"Yeah, but it's all over the place. Not just here. There's a whole bunch of places that are holding proxies."

"Twelve," Jeff said. "Twelve bases. How many masters are there, BEN?"

"Somewhere around a hundred."

Eyeless whistled. "Damn. That many. How many proxies?"

"If you figure an average of ten proxies per master— a thousand," Hoodie said. "Give or take a hundred."

"Well, shit," Eyeless said. "And the masters have a plan?"

"They're working on it," BEN said. "They're trying to organize themselves, but they're all over the place and they all want a say. It's kind of like throwing a whole bunch of violent, clever kings together to achieve a goal. Politics." BEN shuddered. "Slender's keeping low on it. He's more concerned with us than anything else. But he also knows that this organization needs to be destroyed for us, so he's still planning on participating as soon as he gets us all safe."

"Wait— can't we help?" Jack asked.

"I don't know," BEN said, shrugging. "Ask Slender. Speaking of which— he's waiting. He was hoping something like this happened— that's why he sent you with us, Jack. He knew you were stronger, and he was hoping you could keep all of us away from the organization."

"Oops?"

"No, I mean, you freed everybody here. He'll be proud," BEN said. "And nobody was killed or anything. So we can go see him."

"And help him," Jack said. "We'll help return all these proxies, free the rest. Right?"

"Ask Slender. But if we're going, let's go. Before it gets any colder than it already is," BEN said. "He only let me come back here when I promised to bring you guys back with me. And he finally trusted me, so I'm sticking to my word. That's good. Right, Jeff?"

"Right," Jeff murmured.

"So he doesn't hate us?" Toby asked.

"Nope," BEN said. "He loves us."

Toby whooped and swung BEN into a headlock, wrestling him towards the door. "Let's go, let's go, let's go," he said, his boots squeaking eagerly against the tile.

"Hold on a minute," Jeff said. "Eyeless isn't going anywhere. Why don't we just bring the thirteen masters who have proxies here, here? Won't that be easy? All we have to do is break the salt-silver line."

"I mean, I saw it outside," BEN said. "But I don't know what will happen if you break it. What if it kills something?"

"Doubtful," Jeff said. "Come on, I'll show you. Be back, Eye."

They plunged outside, their breath drifting in the air. Clouds masked the stars and the moon and the grass in the field waved with a hard north wind. How did the line stay put with all the wind? Was it really magic? Jeff frowned. Seed Eater lay before the line, its great body limp and eyes dark. _Bastard,_ it said.

_Hey,_ Jeff said. _If we let you out, where will you go?_

Seed Eater stood, shaking out its feathers. _I don't know. Will you let me out?_

_ Yeah. Our father, though, Slenderman, he's coming. I don't know what you want to do. Would you like to stay and see him? You'll get your good word. I mean, you'll get it no matter what, but he probably won't kill you if you stay. I won't promise, though. _

_I will go,_ Seed Eater said. _I would rather not face your father. He will be agitated, no?_

_Probably,_ Jeff admitted. _So will we see you again?_

_Probably,_ Seed Eater said, purring. _I rather like you, Bastard. And Jack. And the rest of you monster-children. You are very powerful allies. I would stay on your good side._

_Thanks,_ Jeff said, and he scuffed his foot across the ground, scattering little bits of salt and silver into the wind and across the dirt. "That," he said to BEN, "is how you break a salt-silver line."


	35. In Which Family Greets

They had to trek across the entire field to break the other side of the line before Seed Eater could leave. From what Jeff could gather, the line had been lain in a large square around the compound and Seed Eater's field sectioned off as a kind of barrier in the direction of the city. It made him wonder if you would find another line and another supernatural guard if you went further from the compound in any other direction. _We should see. More allies, more power— what's not to like? With the lines of their fields still there it's not like they can hurt us._

But there were more important things to worry about. As soon as the line was broken and Seed Eater bolted out, Jeff started waiting. And the longer he waited, the more anxious he got. His brothers were in similar states, pacing the field and sharing worried looks. Couldn't Slender talk to them now? Shouldn't he know they were free? How would he? Would he just sense it? Didn't he want to talk to them?

Tentatively, Jeff searched his mind. The parasite had never left— it had just shrunk and curled and left him alone and his head empty. He knew that, and he left it alone- more precisely, he ignored it with a kind of silent malevolence. It was the same now, still and shriveled, but now he greeted it. He nudged it cautiously, seeking it out like he had when they were burning him. He couldn't say anything to Slender first, but if he prodded Slender usually knew he wanted to speak. He nudged and he bit his lip and he hoped.

The parasite unraveled slowly. _Jeffrey?_ it asked.

_Slender,_ Jeff cried, mentally leaping at the parasite. It opened much more quickly after that, spreading itself out in his mind and pressing into the home it had carved out for itself years ago, familiar and safe. _Slender Slender Slender Slender._

And then he was in a cool, shadowy place and he wasn't Jeff so much as he was Slender's proxy, gathered into Slender's mind with his brothers Their thoughts and emotions rolled together, tumbling and wrestling and leaping and mixing until one wasn't different from the another and none were sure what they thought up for themselves. But they all agreed that they were absolutely ecstatic— all eight of them. This was a place of flashing images— memories of terror and blood and burning and the Mansion and food and vans and forests and fields and fighting and proxies and love and hate and and sunlight and frost and faces. And there were words, choppy and crashing together and changing, morphing, dying and starting anew as they went.

_Slender— not empty— safe— together— good here— are we safe— Seed Eater— Slender— sorry, really sorry— betrayed us— no— all of you are mine— father— cold, it's cold— where are you?- Nebraska— compound— burning, burners, hurt hurt hurt— quiet, it's safe— so very not alone— told you no boxes— family— boxes?— marked— burners, burned— hurt you?— salt-silver line— priests— prayer— they're the monsters— we'll kill them— kill them— Slender?— yes— blood and bone— knife, where?— hungry— supplies in the barn— dog, there's a dog— feel alone— not alone— don't go there— bad— what dog?— don't go there, stupid— Slender— failure, not safe— what?— dog dog fucking dog— faceless?— eyeless, Eyeless are— Eyeless died he was dead— alive, his heart's— he's fine, he's fine— Slender they shot— it didn't hurt that bad, I'm okay— Jack killed— thought Eye was dead— sorry, sorry— alive— enough, happy now— quiet and cool here— stay forever— can't— damn— business, leaders— Slender— masters? Masters are coming— proxies, more proxies— go, work— get out— Slender— not sufficient— can't think— let's go— back later?— later— but right now— outside— fields and cold— alone— not alone, dammit—_

Slender detangled them gently, carefully. Jeff supposed— when he could suppose clearly— that in order to keep them all sane and whole, a meticulous kind of unwinding would be needed. But it was done, and then Jeff was back in his own head with the cushion of the parasite and it was quiet, so quiet, there. But not bad. Less. And his brothers were still here, they could still share thoughts, but it would be more efficient. H comforted himself thinking that, casting his own mental voice out into the quiet. When feeling returned to his body and sight to his eyes, he found Slender passing by him, running a large hand over his head. _Jeffrey,_ he said.

_Slender,_ Jeff said, touching Slender's arm, gripping the suit sleeve with his fingers. _Sorry._

_It is well,_ Slender said. And Jeff thought that maybe for the first time in months, it was. Jeff released him and Slender went around their group, touching each of them as though to reaffirm that they were there. When he stopped, he asked, _Eyeless is inside?_

_Yeah,_ they said.

They took him back to the compound, scampering around him and never straying farther than a five foot radius. As they went, they filled him on their side of the story, and they started to introduce their ideas to him, but he cut them off. He said they could talk about it later. Then he told them he'd sent them away to protect them, since the EMFP was going to attack the Mansion. How'd he known that he didn't tell them, and they accepted it that way.

Eyeless met them outside the compound, wobbling like a newborn colt and shivering violently— but his grin was large and honest as he launched himself at Slender. Slender didn't invite them into the conversation, but Jeff could practically feel the joy radiating from Eyeless's lean, weak form and it made him smile even more. They were all right again. Safe and happy and whole. Sure, there were others things to worry about— but Jeff was content to stay in their little, content bubble for a little while.

When Jack draped an arm over his shoulders, he couldn't find it in himself to mind. They were family, right? They'd still have to duke it out over their positions— Jack was still a threat— but for now they had bigger problems. Which was weird, because Jack was a huge problem. And Jeff wasn't really sure about him. He didn't act like he wanted to give orders or anything, but he still overrode Jeff if he disagreed. Jeff wasn't really sure why that was or what purpose it served. It was annoying. Unstable. But he was okay with it right now. Hell, he'd probably be okay if a plane dropped two hundred burners on them right now. He was safe for a little while and he had his family. What more could a guy ask for?


	36. In Which Jack Digs Himself a Hole

Once they were back inside, they led Slender to their room. Several of the other proxies in the hall stopped to stare as they passed, shrinking back against the walls or stepping off and knitting their brows. When would their masters come? What would happen then? Oh, the problems were returning. Fuck. Jeff sighed. "What?" Jack asked. His arm was still heavy and warm across Jeff's shoulders.

"Nothing. Now get off." He rolled his shoulders and Jack slid his arm away.

"Aw, Jeffy," he whined. "Wasn't hurting you."

Jeff glared. Jack shut up. Jeff shook his head and wrinkled his nose huffily. "I don't fucking understand you."

"Huh? What's there to understand?"

"Never mind, fucker," Jeff said.

"Hey, lovebirds," Eyeless called. "If you'll— "

"What?" Jeff demanded, his step faltering against the tile.

"I said if you'll— "

"We are not lovebirds," Jeff snapped, grimacing and leaning away from Jack.

Eyeless snickered and turned his head back towards them. "No? My mistake. You talk with such affectionate abuse."

Jack waggled his eyebrows at Jeff. "We could be."

"No fucking way," Jeff said. "I haven't even known you, like, half a fucking year."

"People have done far more on far less," Jack said, lifting his chin with an air of _hey look I know this shit._ "Like Romeo and Juliet. Or prostitutes."

"So now I'm a fucking whore?" Jeff hissed, puffing himself up to glare at Jack.

"Wow, hey, that was a bad simile to use." Jack's eyes brightened with actual intelligence this time. "I did not mean it that way. Wow, that was bad. No, Jeffy, you are not a whore."

"Yeah, okay, whatever," Jeff said. "Just— stay far away." He stepped up to Eyeless's and Slender's sides. _Idiot,_ he thought. It was almost pathetic, except for it irritated him too much to consider it with any softer emotion. "The hell you lookin' at? Oh, shut the fuck up."

Eyeless managed to choke back laughter, but he was still grinning like mad, triangle teeth and black gums. "I was going to ask you and Jack to go and tell all the other proxies that their masters should be here soon, and to contact them if they can," he said. Jeff ground his teeth. Eyeless winced. "Ow, ow, ow, hate that, quit, _quit_."

Jeff grit them harder before he said, "Why do I have to go with him?"

"Protection," Eyeless said. "I don't trust anybody out there. And what if a master shows up? We don't know them and they don't know us. I mean, I'd assume that they're friendly towards proxies, but assuming really isn't safe. Jack should at least be able to give Slender some time to get there if you need him. And the proxies'll listen to you if they'll listen to anyone, since you've been giving all the orders."

Jeff groaned and glowered. "Can you smell my irritation?" He shot under his breath. "I hope you can fucking smell it. But fine. Whatever. I can be mature. Don't _laugh,_ you bastard. Watch me be mature." Jeff turned and strode back to the door. "Jack."

"Yeah?" Jack's voice was meek. Jeff almost smirked. Almost. Not quite. He was still mad. Mature, but mad. He could juggle those. Definitely.

"Come on."

"Yeah." Jack trotted to fall into step with him. "What are we doing?"

"Doesn't matter to you," Jeff said.

There was an awkward pause. Jack cleared his throat. "Uh, Jeff. You know I know you're not a whore, right?"

"Whatever," Jeff said. Then he realized he reminded himself of a bitchy teen. Which he was, mostly. But not now. Now he was mature. Except he seemed to feel this bitchiness (not just general bitchiness, but concentrated bitchiness) around Jack. Not that it fucking meant anything except Jack annoyed him more than most people.

"No, uh, seriously. That wasn't what I, ah, meant, when I said, um, that."

"Really? That was not the impression I got."

"I know. It was a really bad example. But, like, it's the truth." And then Jack nearly tripped over himself, his eyes widening. "Not the Jeff's a whore part. I mean like definitely. That's not true. At least I don't think it is. I mean it's not. Probably. I mean I don't know because you've never told me but like I don't think it is but how'm I supposed to know, nobody says anything. I mean I don't think you are, I think you're awesome but I mean the part about the people doing the things really fast, that's true. People do that. Um, you know."

Jeff rolled his eyes but (he was fucking mature) he let the urge to pounce on Jack's every word like the guilt-trip it could be, the one he could make it become, slide. "Point."

"Really? Awesome."

"I'm not entirely against agreeing with others, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. That wasn't what I meant, um, either. And, um, damn, this is awkward." He rubbed the back of his neck and took a deep breath. "That's not what I meant."

"Yup."

"If we were to be— " he coughed— "lovebirds, we wouldn't have to— I mean, like, that's not the only thing I'm, um, interested in. I mean, obviously I'm interested in it— who wouldn't be, uh, right?— but, um, it's not just because of that. I'm not that kind of, um, guy. So, uh— "

"Wait— " Jeff said, freezing and turning to stare at Jack, who was blushing furiously but stubbornly looked him in the eye. Jeff decided he felt sick. Was that his stomach, cramming itself up into his mouth? "You're serious?"

Jack nodded stiffly. "Yes." And Jeff had never heard him sound so serious. It was terrifying.

"Oh, _darling,_ Jeffy."

"Thank _God,_ Jane," he said, whirling around to face her, his stomach drifting mercifully back to where it belonged. "I'm, like, legit happy to see you. I need to talk to your group."

"Of course," she said, beaming at him and linking her arm through his. "Come on. And your friend— Jack, is that your name?— come on, let's go. You're really tall, you know that? I don't think I've met you before. Where are you from? You're British? Ooh, do you have an accent? Damn. Or is that just because you've been in America so long? Can you still talk in an accent?" When he did, she squealed like a stuck pig and Jeff cringed. "How old are you? No _fucking_ way. Seriously? I'm, like, eighteen."

At the very least the annoyance was driving away the sick feeling in Jeff's stomach, and when they entered Jane's group's room, it vanished completely. He straightened his shoulders, lifted his chin, and felt everything familiar click back into place. "Alright," he said. Thirteen sets of eyes (well, twelve sets of eyes plus one and a clock) locked onto him. He told them about the salt-silver line and that they should contact Trenderman and have him come here as soon as possible. They agreed readily, grins spreading across their faces like melted butter. He repeated the same procedure with each of the proxy groups. Most times he couldn't gather them all together, so he told as many as he and Jack and Jane (yes, he kept her. He didn't want to be alone with Jack) could herd into a room at short notice and left it to them to decide the best course of action regarding output of information.

Once they were done, Jane left them to go and see Trenderman. She'd been jerky ever since about five minutes after they told her group to contact Trender, and Jeff wasn't entirely heartless and she was still annoying, so he let her go without a fight. And then he was alone with Jack and he hurried them back to the room, relieved when the reached it and he could bury himself in arguing with his brothers and reveling in Slender's presence, where it sat down the hall with Liu's group. He distracted himself, and he avoided Jack. That was good.


	37. In Which There is a Party and Vod-fucking-ka

In the week that followed, everything was mostly chaos, and Jeff was glad for it. It gave he and Jack less reason to be together and kept his mind off of...it. After much wheedling and pleading and promising, he and Eyeless and Hoodie had managed to convince Slender to let them stay to see the other proxies off. They were still working on getting him to agree to let them help rescue the other thousand-some proxies, but Jeff figured he would come around. Maybe.

It wasn't their problem, Slender said. His job was done, he said. He had them. The other thousand meant nothing to him. The same couldn't be said for Jeff and his brothers. Slender was right— Jeff could agree with him, mostly. The other proxies really didn't concern them. But one of the proxies' major argument points was that so long as the EMFR existed, they were in danger. It needed to be destroyed. And it seemed like they had a kind of duty now. After discovering the horrors the other thousand were still being submitted to, and after experiencing a fraction of it themselves, it felt important to free the other proxies— the right way. Not like the EMFR wanted to do. To return them to their masters, to let them feel what they'd felt when they were reunited with Slender. It felt incredibly important. The biggest job, the one Slender hadn't given quite yet. But he would. Maybe. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

As for the present, though, it was fast and harried. The masters that could be summoned were summoned, and the ones that weren't were tracked down by BEN, who declared he had jumped through enough phones, computers, and wires to last a lifetime and then some. During the first three days masters came and gathered their proxies. They were brought up to speed by Slender, Eyeless, and their own proxies. Then they were dismissed. Several chose to stay after hearing about the remaining burners. Maybe it was the same sense of duty settled on Jeff's shoulders that encouraged them to do so. Maybe it was for revenge. Jeff could agree with that, too. More than agree. But why they stayed didn't matter to him. It only mattered that they and their proxies were there to fight if they were needed.

The entire compound was on lookout for burners. They had scouts aboveground and guards belowground, all armed to the teeth. It was the fourth day of the week when one proxy shot another- purely accidental, but it had taken Eyeless two hours of surgery without anesthesia and a very angry master to repair the wound. Even aboveground, they could hear the proxy screaming for about ten minutes. And then Eyeless must have made a decision, because the proxy didn't scream anymore and she had a large lump on her head when Jeff saw her again.

He had to talk to Jack again on the eighth day. It wasn't willingly, not really, but when the thirteenth master was found and came to the compound, there was a celebration. Sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll BEN illegally downloaded onto the compound computers. There was a lot of alcohol, too. The classic beer, the classy red wine (one of the few alcoholic things Jeff could stand), the oldschool rum, and— if that all weren't bad enough— there was vodka. Vod-fucking-ka.

Now, Jeff didn't have anything against being drunk. He liked being drunk. He just didn't like getting drunk. He'd have to be drunk to get drunk. There was also the little-bitty fact that with mostly everyone drunk, the burners would have a easy job dispatching a good number of them. They kept about twenty proxies sober to guard the aboveground and the entrance, but the rest were essentially useless. It was good that the twenty they kept were powerful, and that would give them some strength, but it still annoyed Jeff. It was irresponsible.

Also, he hated the smell and taste of alcohol. Hated, loathed, despised. Everyone at the Mansion knew it— well, most everyone. Maybe not all the newbies. But the solution to this problem was fairly simple. Jeff stayed far, far away from the party, aboveground and close to the barn, which Slenderman had gathered all of their things out of (Jeff had his baby back.) Unfortunately, he'd been stuck between a rock and a hard place, and now he was stuck with Jack. But that was kind of okay, because Jack left him alone for the first few minutes— and then if he spoke, he spoke normally, and gradually Jeff relaxed.

Yeah, that lasted all of an hour. After that, Max happened. "— and then I teleported away, right, and I thought that was the end of that, but it wasn't. See, if I can't see where I'm teleporting, if I only have a vague idea, I can go pretty much anywhere within a ten mile radius. So I'd thought about going back to the cabin by the river, but I ended up teleporting right above the river, and I fall in and nearly drown before I can get out, because the water's distracting, you know, I couldn't think to teleport. And then when I was up on the bank there was this goose. This damn mean goose, and it chased me, and I was not in the mood and— "

"Hey, Jackie, Jeffy, wassup? You tellin' that goose story again, Jack?" Max was a sad specimen of human being. He was short and scrawny and weak and reminded Jeff of a chihuahua. Thought it was a big dog, yapped until it was bitten. His saving grace was his quick wit— which today, it appeared, had been drowned in vodka. Vod-fucking-ka. He stood to the side of Jeff and Jack, swaying on his feet and clutching a bottle of the damned stuff.

"Yeah," Jack said, grinning. "Like it so much you wanna listen again?"

"Nah," Max said. "Wanted to get outta there." He hooked his finger over his shoulder towards the cellar door. "Gettin' kind of intimate, you know what I mean?" He sat himself down between them and threw back another mouthful of vod-fucking-ka. The smell slithered into Jeff's nose, crawled up into his head and down his throat, burning and making the world spin and twist. He wanted it gone fucking gone. Max did not.

When Jeff grabbed for the bottle, Max jerked it out of his reach. "Woah, man, you want some just ask."

"Give it," Jeff growled.

"Jeff?" Jack asked.

"Man— " Max started.

He didn't finish. Jeff snagged for the bottle again, it was too much too close, and then it slipped out of Max's fingers and half into his and then Max cracked an elbow across his jaw and his teeth clicked together and his fingers loosened and the bottle tumbled over itself, splashing vodka onto their shirts. Jeff froze. He _burned._ "Aw, man— "

"Jeff, what the hell?" Jack asked, narrowing his eyes. White. White like skin. Bleached. Burned. Vodka. _Burning._ He was burning-

_they were going to burn him_


	38. In Which There Are Flashbacks

_"What's funny is that you're covered in bleach and alcohol." A crooked, bloody-toothed sneer. A flash of light. Tiny, insignificant._

_And then it's not so tiny anymore. It grabs for him, seizes his clothes and his skin and burns him he's burning burning burning always burning._

Jeff bolted to his feet and wavered there. Max's face— _was it Max's? Was he here? Was he there? What was real? Was he real?-_ was still irritated, confused. It shivered like a mirage—not Max, Keith. Or was it Max? Who was Max? Why did it matter? They could burn him. "Man," he said. "What's your deal?"

"Jeff?" Jack's voice changed. It was less annoyed now. More cautious.

But they wouldn't burn him. He wouldn't let them. Who were they? Were they Jack and Max or Troy and Keith and Randy? Their faces were blurring, shifting faster than he could keep up. One second he was in front of the compound, in cold, clean Nebraskan air, and the next he was in a small bathroom, his head ringing and his clothes soaked, the heavy, sharp scents of vodka and bleach and blood stinging his nose.

Then Max stood up. He was still short, small, but Jeff saw fire in his eyes. Saw his own reflection. There was no thought—there was only act only survive only not burn. He jumped—not forwards, although he clutched his knife in his hand, but backwards, scrambling and tripping away _away away from the fire the fire the fire beautiful it's beautiful you know even when it's not it's not it's not it's not it hurts._

There were voices in his head, noisy and clashing and confusing. He backed away from them, baring his teeth. _Away away away please go away leave me alone. We're already beautiful, no more no more no more please._ Voices— were there words? There were the sounds, the twists of tongue and clicks of teeth that made _Jeff_ and _okay_ and _leave_ and _knife._ Knife. He tightened his grip around his knife's hilt, felt it smooth and solid against his palm.

The air was heavy. Too heavy, too familiar. How could he be at the compound when it smelled like he was burning? Sizzling flesh, crackling skin, screaming. _Helpless, hurting, not safe._ He could see the flames around him, jumping and claiming and beautiful, so beautiful it hurt. His breath came faster, rushing through his lungs and feeding his pounding heart. His muscles shivered, jerking with fear. _Run run run go run away away danger danger danger go run._

But where could he go? There was the door, he could go down the stairs to his mother and father, but he knew what happened there. And then there was a field, wide and open, and a man with white eyes who could catch him anyway, no matter where he went. Where was he? Fuck, he was terrified. He just didn't want to hurt. Is that too much to ask?

He ran towards the field. The voices rose and he was trapped. They were going to burn him. They took his knife. He thrashed against the arms that held him, snarling as viciously as he could, snapping and clawing. _Away away away please please please don't burn leave us alone alone alone is safe alone._ But he wasn't released. He was held tighter. There was something at his back, something that pulled his legs to his chest and something that held his head, covered his eyes, left him in the dark.

He paused, panting through his teeth. _Give up? Never never that's not us. But just breath. Just for a minute. They'll burn us burn us no no no— enough. Even if they do please don't if they do we'll fight. Breathe. Breathe._ He was tucked up, small and cramped, shielded from the wind. It felt safe, but he wasn't an idiot. Not safe here, not while it smelled like burning and agony.

They moved him. He started struggling again, but it was useless. Jack. Jack was holding him. He wanted to wail in frustration. He felt sick, his stomach turning. Futile, all his attempts were futile. He was stuck, he was going to hurt. No escape, not with Jack. They took his shirt. _They'll burn our skin only our skin no protection it hurts it hurts I hate fire we are fire._ But they pulled another one over his head, one that smelled warm and sugary and dark.

And it was dark. His head was pushed down and a hand clamped over his eyes, hiding the world from his sight. So he couldn't see them burn him, couldn't avoid it. He whined, low in his throat, and pushed back against Jack. "Let go," he said, his voice tight and fearful.

Jack's arms tightened. "Shh, it's okay," he murmured. His breath was hot against the back of Jeff's head, stirring in his hair.

"Jeff?" Not Jack's voice. Clearer, smoother. Eyeless. "Hey, listen to me."

Listen to Eyeless? _Always always always but what if he hurts us? He won't. He takes care of us. He's leader, that's what leaders do. He loves us. Right?_ "What?"

"Attaboy. You're fine, alright?" Eyeless said. "Just breathe. Slower. Calm down." He tried. He really did, for Eyeless. He tried to count seconds between breaths, and as he did, he noticed how his body shook, how his head spun. "Good," Eyeless murmured. "Are you alright now?"

Jeff shook his head. Nowhere close to alright. He inhaled dark and sugar and not-burning, trying to steady himself. _We're fine, we're fine, they're ours, they won't burn us, we're fine, fine, fine._ "Do you know where we are?" Eyeless asked.

"Yeah."

"Where?"

Compound," Jeff said.

"Let him see, Jack," Eyeless said.

The hand over his eyes was removed and Jeff lifted his head. The area around them was dark and empty, a good distance closer to the field than they had been. Eyeless and Jack were the only ones close to him. His own shirt had vanished and been replaced with a familiar, too-big, feathery-shouldered one. He couldn't smell much besides Jack— who, Jeff noticed with a growing sense of mortification, was shirtless and still wrapped around him. _Here, we're here now,_ he thought. _Act like it._ "Lemme go, bastard," he said, worming against Jack's arms.

"Can I, Eyeless?" Jack asked, trapping Jeff against his chest. Jeff growled and thought about biting him, but thought that maybe that wouldn't encourage them to release him.

"Go ahead," Eyeless said.

Jack released him and Jeff scrambled to his feet, stretching himself out and feeling his muscles twitch with the remains of adrenaline. _Safe free safe okay it's okay, okay? Okay._ With his lizard brain quieting its yammering, Jeff felt heat rising in his face and refused to meet Jack's eyes or Eyeless's sockets. "Sorry," he muttered, hunching his shoulders-which rustled with feathers. He dragged Jack's shirt off and handed it back to him. Jack accepted it with a quiet, concerned look that irritated Jeff. "I'm fine," he snapped. "Just fucking alcohol."

"Is it...flashbacks?" Jack asked.

"No, it's fucking unicorns."

"Yeah," Eyeless said. "But that wasn't a bad one. Jack, go grab him a new shirt, would you?" And once Jack was gone, Eyeless stuffed his hands into his hoodie pockets and turned to look at Jeff. "Tell you what, I feel like hell and I'm going to bed soon, so I'll make this quick."

"As a mercy killing?"

"Yeah. Try to, anyway."

"How's your stomach?"

"I feel like hell."

"Alright."

"We need to talk."

"Okay."

"About Jack."

"Not okay."


	39. In Which Eyeless and Jeff Talk

Eyeless folded his arms across his chest, pulling his hoodie sleeves up around his wrists. "Now I'm not your mother, so I'm not going to go nagging you to give him a chance or whatever. It's entirely your choice, your life, Jeff, and I'm not coercing you. I can't say that I don't have a personal opinion but I'm not telling it to you."

"Well."

"As a leader, however, I feel the need to have input. I'm a self-righteous bastard, if you will, and I think I know a little bit more about the world than you do. At least six years' worth, anyway."

"Point."

"And as leader, I need assurances that this...relationship--"

"Not a relationship."

"If you know a person you have a relationship with them, I didn't specify anything. Shut up and listen. That this relationship won't affect our team functioning. Assure me, Jeff."

"It won't."

"That's right, it won't. If it does you know I'll have to make your life hell."

"Already happening."

Eyeless cuffed him over the head, harder than a wounded man had right to. "No matter what your relationship, you and Jack will treat each other like teammates. That's the only way we survive. You don't have to be friends, but you're still teammates."

"I haven't been treating him bad," Jeff said, glaring at the ground. "Fuck, Eye. I'm not an idiot. I get that he doesn't mean any harm."

"Do you, now?" Eyeless asked, his voice grim. "I seem to recall you were rather paranoid about your position in our team a few weeks ago. What happened to that?"

"Still there," Jeff said. "But I'm not going to, like, kill him."

"I don't understand, Jeff, there," Eyeless said. "I said it. I thought I did, back when you were treating Jack like shit, I got that, I was okay with it. I shouldn't've been, but we were all stressed out and I got that Jack was a threat and I let you have free rein with him. It wasn't like you were torturing him.

"And I expected it to be like that now, or at least have resolved itself like normal, like in a fight or something. But it hasn't, and I don't understand. I know Jack's still a threat to you, but now that--well, after what he said, I don't understand your relationship. And you know I have to, Jeff, if I don't understand my team what kind of a leader am I? So do you still hate him? Or is he your friend? What would you do if you were on a job together? Would you work together safely? What, Jeff?"

Jeff took a deep breath. "I don't know," he admitted. "I don't understand either. I don't understand him."

"He's still a threat."

"Yes."

"Do you feel threatened?"

"No." Jeff rocked back on his heels and bit the inside of his cheek. "It's like he doesn't want to be leader. He could be, you know. He could beat me. Would you rather have that, Eye? Him as your right hand?" Jeff looked anxiously towards Eyeless, who shook his head vehemently. His chest and shoulders suddenly lighter, Jeff grinned at the stars.

"No way," Eyeless said. "I mean, he's a great guy, great fighter, but I don't trust him. He doesn't have the head or the heart I need. Maybe my left hand, but you're my right, no contest."

"Well now he's significantly less of a threat," Jeff said. "I don't know what the others think, though. What if he would be better as a leader?"

Eyeless shook his head again. "They trust you, Jeff. They'd follow you to Hell and back. I don't think they'd do that for him. They haven't even known him a year."

"And that's the problem, see, Eye. What if I lead them to Hell because I'm not good enough? What if Jack wouldn't? What if he's the better leader? I mean, I hate it, but that's the way of the world. The strongest, the sharpest, they should be the leaders. Nature's law."

"Humanity fucked nature a long time ago. Human law says that the ones with the heart should be the leaders. And you'd die for those guys, Jeff, and they'd die for you. You're smart and you're loyal and you're a stubborn as all get-out. You earned your place. Don't give it up without a fight."

Jeff shook his head. "Wasn't planning on it. If he wants those guys he'll have to beat me a couple thousand times first. And then if he can do that maybe he can have them."

"That's my Jeffy. So are you guys friends or what?"

Jeff shrugged. "Dunno. I guess so."

"Do you consider him one of your guys?"

"I guess. I mean, he said he thought of us as family and he did help us out of the compound. And Slender likes him."

"Would you die for him?"

"No," Jeff said, scoffing. "He's fucking immortal. I only die for people if they're in mortal danger."

"Smart boy."

"You know it."

"So none of these questions matter because he won't die, anyway."

Eyeless tilted his head. "True enough. So keep yourself out of danger where he's concerned, but try and treat him like a teammate. He's not really a newbie anymore."

"Deal."

"And try to figure out your relationship."

"We're friends. Just friends. That's all. Let it go."

Eyeless started humming Frozen's "Let it Go." Jeff rolled his eyes. Eyeless wrinkled his nose. "I heard that, young man. Don't roll your eyes in my presence."

"Whatever, old man. Go to sleep."

"Mm, good idea. I'm in the barn if you need me. Damn loud in the compound."

"Night, Eye."

"Nighty-night, Jeffy-boy. Tell Jack I said night, too."

"'kay," Jeff said. He counted stars, but he kept losing his place. There were too many of them. But they were all so beautiful. Like people could be. They weren't, but they could be. Jeff helped them a lot.

When Jack came back he looked incredibly guilty. "Sorry it took so long," he said, handing Jeff a blue sweater. It was damned ugly and he didn't recognize it, but he was was shivering himself to death and pulled it on without much complaint. "I couldn't find your stuff."

"It should be in my bag."

"Your bag isn't in the room."

"What? Where the hell is it?"

Jack shrugged helplessly. "I dunno. None of our bags are there."

"Then we have a problem."

"Yeah. What are we doing?"

"Solving it. Obviously."


	40. In Which Slender Makes a Decision That Jeff Tries Really, Really Hard Not to be Bitter About

Jeff had to take Jack's word on the absence of their things, since there was no way in hell he was going into the compound while everyone was drinking. It irritated him to be stranded outside of the compound when the people with their things were probably inside, but he wasn’t willing to risk another flashback by venturing into the cesspool of alcohol and noisy immaturity the compound had become. 

Still, he couldn’t sit around and do nothing, so he went to the only other building on the premise first, Jack following dutifully at his heels.

The barn had been cleared out by leaving proxies and organized into neat piles. Slenderman's pile consisted of spare food and stolen supplies that wouldn't fit into his proxies’ indoor bags. Jeff had hoped that one of the proxies had put all of their indoor bags here, but, in fact, the pile was completely gone, and two people stood where it had been.

They were arguing—it was clear to Jeff, although neither of them spoke. Eyeless had assumed his stiff,  _ I'm boss you listen _ stance—his shoulders and jaw forward, his fists clenched at his sides and his shoulders a straight, hard line. Slenderman looked like he always did—tall and emotionless and formidable. Both of their faces swiveled towards he and Jack when they entered.

And then, no doubt in response to a mental conversation that he evidently wanted to let Jeff and Jack in on, Eyeless snapped at Slender, "Let them argue. They have a right to it."

_ Don't presume to tell me what to do, child. And they have no such right. However.  _ Slender inclines his head, _ it is important for them to know. Jeffrey, Jack. We're leaving tonight.  _

Jeff and Jack stared at him.  _ What?  _ Jack asked.

_ Yeah, what? _ Jeff said.

_ We are leaving, _ Slenderman repeated. His voice, so often smooth and emotionless, seemed unusually strained.  _ Tonight. As soon as possible. Your things are already in the van. Jeffrey, go and fetch the others. _

That, at least, explained where their things had mysteriously vanished to. The answer was less satisfactory than he had hoped.  _ I—um, Slender, there's alcohol down there, I— _

_ I can get them, _ Jack said, and Jeff felt a foolish swell of gratitude towards him.

_ Very well,  _ Slender said.  _ Jeffrey, get in the van. _

_ No, _ Eyeless said. Jeff, already stepping towards the van, froze.  _ We can't leave. We have to stop the EMFP—right, Jeff? The thousand other proxies? We can't just let the burners torture them. Jeff. We have to help them. _

_ Aren't we going to? _ Jeff asked meekly, hunching his shoulders. Being caught between his two leaders is remarkably unpleasant—and although he’s grateful that he gets the opportunity to be around them both alive and arguing, he doesn’t want to do it for very long.

_ No,  _ Slender said. _ It's not your problem. I and the other masters will deal with it. _

_ How?  _ Eyeless demanded.  _ Why can't we help? It'll be so much faster. Don't you trust us? _

_ It has nothing to do with trust,  _ Slender said.

_ It has everything to do with trust. You don't think we can handle a job this big. Haven't we proven ourselves? I mean, we freed this compound. _

_ No, _ Slender said.  _ Laughing Jack freed this compound, and he will be assisting I and the other masters.  _ You  _ were almost killed. You are going back to the Mansion. You can do it of your own free will or I'll force you. _

_ It's not free will if you're threatening me, _ Eyeless snarled. His shoulders, which have been straightened in defiance, were suddenly pulled tight with hurt.  _ You bastard. _

_ I—Slender, we could help,  _ Jeff said, reluctant to let Eyeless take the brunt of Slender’s wrath by himself.

Slender’s face turned towards him, and Jeff’s stomach dropped. He swallowed hard and didn’t look away, though—Eyeless had a point, and Jeff wished Slender would think it through. 

Yeah, like that would happen when Slender was in this mood. Instead, Slender’s voice grew and sharpened and he said,  _ Enough. Get in the van, both of you. _

It was a death wish, maybe, but Jeff didn’t want to give up when Eyeless’s hands were still balled into frustrated fists. He started,  _ We'd do everything you say, we'd be useful—  _

_ Now.  _ Claws of Slender’s control, delicate and sharp, sank into Jeff’s mind. They must have done the same to Eyeless, because both of them moved towards the van with jerky, uncomfortable steps.

Jeff clambered into the back bench seat and curled up there, trying to resign himself to their defeat. Eyeless slunk into the empty hatch and Jeff could feel him simmering, stewing in rage. He wanted to say something, but Slender was still listening, and his desire to stay in Slender’s favor outweighed his desire to save the thousand proxies, or to side with Eyeless for that purpose—after all, he wasn’t  _ that  _ selfless. 

Right?

Just ten minutes later, Jack brought the others back and they crammed themselves into the van. It was cramped and crowded and loud, placing all of Slender's proxies into a single ten-passenger van, but it was comforting to have them all alive and nearby. BEN sleepily crawled into the hatch with Eyeless, and Toby snored drunkenly as Jack deposited him onto Masky's and Liu's laps, then crept back to sit beside Jeff. 

"Sorry," he murmured.

Jeff made a noncommittal noise. In spite of his efforts to accept Slender’s decisions, there was a bitterness coiling under his ribs, fed by Eyeless's anger. They had been planning for a few days—offhandedly, vaguely, but still planning—to free the thousand. To save them. To do something good, something like making people beautiful. To free them the right way, and to send them back home.

But no. No, they weren't allowed to do the right thing. They had to sit on their asses at home while the big kids did noble work. Of course. Maybe it was stupid to bother himself thinking about it, when Slender had already told them what would and would not happen, but—

Well, Eyeless didn’t seem to be happy, even when BEN sprawled out next to him. That bothered Jeff more than he’d like to admit. And to worsen his mood, Toby and BEN smelled like alcohol, making his stomach twist and turn. 

Struggling to avoid those displeasing thoughts and feelings, he flipped over and buried his face against the seat, for all the good that did. Yeah, absolutely none.

What if Slender really didn't think much of them? They were kids to him, weak, soft-bellied and soft-minded things to be protected. But they  _ weren't. _ If he would just let them try. With the masters' help and being in the loop, saving the other thousand proxies would be easy. They were cold-blooded murderers—why should Slender coddle them?

After all, he’d sent them out on their own a few months ago and left them to their own devices. Although Jeff understood his reasoning now, he still questioned what right Slender should have to just come back into their lives and order them around. If he didn’t respect them enough to think that they could defend themselves, or know about the EMFP without freaking out, then why should Jeff bother respecting him?

Fuck, but he hated the smell of alcohol. Damn Toby and BEN, the drunken bastards. Jeff sat up (not that he was really lying down in the first place—there wasn't enough room on the seat to do much more than shove his nose into the cloth), turned, and pushed his face into Jack's stomach. He felt it tense and growled irritably. “Don’t say anything.”

Jack hummed and gentle fingers carded through his hair. Jeff let them—correction: he leaned into them. They were cool and pleasant and he let them relax him, lull him towards sleep. He pulled the scents of dark and sugar into his lungs, overpowering the alcohol, until his world was completely Jack and then his world vanished into the warm, blissful nothingness of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *returns from the dead after like a million years*   
> Wow, I can't believe it's almost been two years since I updated this. I am so sorry D:   
> I could offer you a million excuses but none of them are any good, so instead, um, I hope you enjoyed this chapter? Thanks so much for all of the comments and kudos this got while it was on mega-hiatus, by the way! I really appreciate all of them and they definitely encouraged me to try and finish this story.


	41. In Which There is Driving and—no, yeah, just driving

When he woke it was warm and fuzzy and quiet, and he was comfortable—save for the ever-present throb in his ankle, anyway. Jeff stretched as much as he could, pressing the top of his head into someone's side and his feet against the side of the van, then huffed comfortably and relaxed again. He could hear the road whirring beneath them, the rush of air outside the van, and the low murmur of his family’s voices over a crackly radio station.

Twisting his face out of Jack's stomach, he saw that it was light outside, the sky a pale blue. Jack's eyes were half-open, foggy with sleep, and they followed him as he moved. Jeff wrinkled his nose at him and nestled back into his shirt and sugar-smell. It was too quiet and warm to wake up all the way, but within the hour the noise was picking up.

Rather than getting irritated, Jeff grudgingly accepted the loss of his peace and quiet and shuffled to sit up and lean against the window, yawning and cracking his jaw. Jack, freed from Jeff’s weight, stretched his gangling legs out as much as he could and copied Jeff's yawn.

As Jeff leaned over the seat to see if Eyeless was awake, Jack said, "Go out with me?"

"Hm, no," Jeff said. He couldn’t even bring himself to be surprised, at this point, and he was quickly distracted by the sight of Eyeless and BEN. The two of them were curled together in the back of the van, a scratchy wool blanket thrown haphazardly over their bodies.

Both of their faces were slack with sleep—BEN’s mouth was dropped open, emitting soft snores, and the black liquid on Eyeless’s face had streaked to the side of his face that was pressed into the van floorboard. It was, no doubt, going to be a bitch to get out of the carpet. Eyeless was going to be as happy as Jeff to get their sleeping masks back, he thought.

As sickeningly cute as they were while they were sleeping, Jeff wanted their attention more than he wanted to look at them. Reaching over the seat, he jabbed BEN’s shoulder with unrepentant cheerfulness. "Morning, lovebirds. It’s time to get up and smell the roses.”

"Oh, go to sleep, you jackass," Eyeless muttered, rolling over and dragging BEN with him like an oversized teddy bear.

"Don't use my line," Jeff whined, slouching back into his seat.

"So, uh—why not?" Jack asked, glancing between him and Eyeless. “If you don’t mind me asking, I mean.”

"It's my line. Mine. Trademarked or whatever. No touchie."

"What? No, territorial, I meant why won't you go out with me?"

Jeff rolled his eyes. "Um, I don't even really know you and I've got more important things to be concerned with right now."

"Well dating is getting to know someone, right? And I mean life is short for humans, right, we might as well start now."

Jeff swiped fog off of the window and pressed his nose against the glass. "No."

"Aw, come on, pleaseee?"

"Don't be a baby. Hey, tiny gas station. Who's up for a rest stop?" Jeff asked. When the rest of the van affirmed, Slender agreed. After a plan was rapidly made, Masky pulled the van into the parking lot. They sent Jack in (he was like a cheat, seriously) and when he motioned them inside they fought to squeeze through the van doors, snarling and shoving.

It delighted Jeff to have a chance to reaffirm his dominance, and he roughed up more proxies than he needed to getting out. Eyeless seemed to have the same idea and they fell into step as they went towards the station, the first out of the van and first inside. Jeff tried to spare a discreet glance at Eyeless as they walked. Thanks to his fucked-up biology, Jeff knew Eyeless’s wound would take twice as long as a normal human’s to heal—still, his pace was deceptively normal and even, for someone who was shot a few days ago. Jeff didn’t know whether that relieved or concerned him.

Still, he supposed he wasn’t one to talk. He was staunchly ignoring the pain in his own ankle to appear more put-together in front of the snapping, lunatic creatures Slender called his proxies, so he could understand what Eyeless was doing.

"Your suite, sirs," Jack said, slapping on a gaudy British accent and sweeping his arm around the station as the entered.

"Well, it's not much," Eyeless said. "But then— "

"Not much is," Jeff finished. The station was small and neat. Four bodies were scattered in the aisles, but Jack had done his work cleanly and they were easy to step over. There were donuts and coffee and milk and juice and ball caps and cigarettes and air fresheners and a limited selection of clothing, all free for the taking. It almost made Jeff giddy.

After using the bathroom, Jeff switched out the horrific blue sweater for a red, long-sleeved plaid shirt to guard against the chill and a new pair of jeans. He bullied Toby and BEN and a few of the other proxies who had been drunk last night into doing the same thing. While the smell of lemon tile cleaner and cigarette smoke wasn’t pleasant, it beat the noxious scent of alcohol by miles. Damn, but he couldn't wait to shower again.

_Back at the Mansion soon,_ his mind said joyfully. _Back at home, with showers and hot food and safety safety safety is important. But the thousand—enough. Slender said he'd handle it, right? But we want to fight—well, we can't. But we want to. Ugh, don't we always?_

Shoving away his dissatisfaction, Jeff helped ransack the aisles for food, shoveling donuts and Doritos and sodas and Poptarts into his bag. Then, because Slender insisted breakfast be something that wouldn't turn them into thousand-pound, creaky, useless little proxies, he grabbed an apple and sunk his teeth into it with a satisfying crunch. It was weirdly amazing to taste something healthy. He grabbed a few more and threw them into his bag.

Eyeless whistled for them a few minutes later and they scurried outside like so many rats, piling back into the van before the first wail of sirens split the air—or, perhaps, before the police had even been informed of the robbery, depending on quickly Jack had done his job. The van chattered cheerfully as Liu revved the engine and pulled back onto the highway, and Eyeless buried his head underneath their blankets and bags until they had quieted.

"Alright back there, sunshine?" Jeff asked cheerfully, high off of their escape and chomping on a second apple.

"No. Gimme an apple."

Jeff did, and Eyeless jammed it between his teeth, chewing irritably and spitting the massacred flesh out of the window before he accidentally swallowed it. And they drove. And drove. And drove. And kept driving. And then drove some more. And a little more. And a lot more. Oh—and they drove. And droooove. And it was booooring.

For the first couple of hours they exchanged dramatic stories of capture and fight and flight. The next few they told murder stories.

Then they kind of let the conversation go and listened to the radio—although every time the song changed there would be arguments to settle, over whether to switch the station or not and to what other station. There was another break, but Slender didn't let them raid again, and so they stretched their legs and pissed in a short stretch of woods before moving on again.

When Liu switched out to let Hoodie drive, Jeff attempted a conversation with him. Liu seemed vaguely annoyed but tolerated it, which Jeff conceded to consider a victory. They talked about petty things, and never about the past, but they talked all the same. When it started getting dark at six, Jeff ate Doritos for dinner and ignored Slender’s mother-hen reprimands. When Eyeless asked him about the constellations, Jeff told him about them the way he always had. He traced them against Eyeless's palm, naming each one he could see out of his window as they drove and drove and drove.

It was a straight shot from Nebraska back to the Mansion, but it still took some thirty or forty hours to get there. Far too long, in his opinion. It seemed to Jeff like it got warmer the farther south they went—but maybe that was just him and the fact that when he slept he curled up close to Jack again, seeking out gentle fingers and sugar-smell.

The next time he woke it was gray and heavy. Jack's fingers flitted around his temples and his words around Jeff's head. "Hey, we're home," he said. Jeff pushed himself upright and looked past stirring, sleepy bodies and out of the windshield. Beneath a sky full of gray predawn and purple clouds, a house stood. Tall and dark and oppressive—and not the Mansion.


	42. In Which An Unfamiliar Place is Explored

Of course it wasn’t the Mansion—Jeff  _ knew  _ that. BEN had told them. It was sensible, logical, for Slender to move them away from the Mansion, since the burners knew where it was. He’d forgotten it, momentarily, in the bliss of going home, and being safe. To be confronted with it now was, needless to say, unpleasant. 

But there was a question that circled in the back of his mind—one he baited away with food and talking and other thoughts, because he didn't want to risk Slender's wrath or Eyeless's by asking it. Besides, he was quite happy to just pretend that they were all together and Slender had everything under and control and maybe the thousand would die but that was okay, really, it was, and he was home and things were normal.

But it wasn’t okay, and the question was here now, in the front of his mind, biting for his attention. And he thought he knew the answer in the same second, because—well, they weren’t home, and this obviously wasn’t the place where Slender was amassing his troops. 

"Slender?" Jeff asked.

_ Yes? _ Slender said.

_ You said you were gathering more proxies to rescue the thousand, so where…? _

_ Let us unpack first, _ Slender said, in a way that was clearly not a suggestion. Jeff, although he was sick of being out of the loop, didn't want to step onto bad terms with anyone, so he let it slide and clambered reluctantly out of the van, stepping gingerly on his injured ankle. 

He was still unsure about his place between Eyeless and Slender, because although he was inclined to agree with Eyeless about saving the thousand, Slender  _ was _ their ultimate authority. He also wasn't quite sure how Slender or Eyeless felt about each other, because they hadn't spoken since their fight at the barn. It annoyed Jeff. He was ready for this shit to be done with—and yet, he could do nothing to finish it. 

Eyeless slipped out of the van to stand beside Jeff, his face turned towards the empty house in front of them. Jeff wanted to see his expression—what did Eyeless think of all this? What should Jeff think of it?—but his mask, which he’d found in one of the boxes in the back of the van on the drive down, shielded it. The subtle tightening of his shoulders was warning enough, though, and Jeff felt himself shrinking away even before Eyeless spoke. 

"What the hell?" Eyeless asked, whirling around to face Slender. "Jeff, there’s nobody here, is there?”

"I don’t, uh, think so, anyway," Jeff said, his voice grinding through his teeth—as much as he wanted to support Eyeless, he didn’t want to be caught in an argument between him and Slender again. 

(Even if Eyeless was right. Even if something in Jeff’s chest snarled, bitter and hot, at the idea of giving up on the other thousand when Slender told them to.)

"What the hell?" Eyeless asked again. "What happened to gathering all of your  _ strong  _ proxies? All the ones you were actually going to let fight? Where are they?”

_ I will explain, _ Slender said, as coolly unfazed in the face of Eyeless’s anger as he would be in front of a yapping dog.  _ Unpack first. _

Eyeless's hand twitched, and for a second Jeff was terrified that he was going to attempt to punch Slender. Instead, to Jeff’s enormous relief, he made an animalistic growling noise and stormed towards the back of the van, yanking his bag out and slinging it viciously over his shoulder. Despite the angry confidence in his steps as he moved towards the house, though, his strides were short and uncertain. 

Jeff threw an unsure glance at Slender before slinking to the back of the van, grabbing his own bag, and jogging to catch up with Eyeless. “Hey, Eye—”

“Go away.”

“Do you want some help figuring out the house?” 

“I can do it myself.” Eyeless pointedly lengthened his stride—of course, the statement he attempted to make with that gesture was undermined when he stumbled over a stone. He drew his foot back and slammed it into the rock, sending it crashing into the house’s siding with a sharp  _ thwack.  _

“Yeah, of course you can,” Jeff said. Eyeless’s shoulders rose towards his ears, and he realized how sarcastically that statement would have been taken, given Eyeless’s current mood. Scrambling to save the conversation, he added, “I’m serious. I know you can, but you don’t have to, you know?” 

“Yeah.” Eyeless said, his voice stiff. “Sure.”

“Really.” Jeff paused, and when Eyeless didn’t respond, he lapsed into silence. They crossed the rest of the yard—a meager, unfenced thing, with dead brown grass and scattered orange leaves—without speaking. When they reached the stairs leading up onto the porch, Eyeless stopped and glanced over at Jeff. 

“Well?” he said expectantly. “Aren’t you going to tell me what it looks like?”

Jeff grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “What, your super-senses can’t tell that already?”

Eyeless sniffed haughtily. “It smells small and unused—strikingly similar to your brain, actually.”

As Jeff clasped a hand over his heart in mock indignation, BEN appeared at their sides, a small smile on his face. “Are you making fun of Jeff? Can I help?”

“Absolutely,” Eyeless said. “It takes more than one to keep this prick in line.”

“I’m honestly so angry right now,” Jeff said. 

“What’s new?” BEN said. 

“An astute point, Benny-boy,” Toby said, trotting to their sides with his backpack bouncing against his back. “Are we gonna look at the house, though, or are we just gonna humiliate Jeff? Not that I have a problem with that—both options are equally time-consuming and simple to do.”

Jeff huffed and marched up the stairs. They creak foreignly under his sneakers—another dazzling reminder of the fact that this place is unfamiliar and wrong. The others followed him, snickering amongst themselves, and that, at least, felt like home. 

“So what  _ does  _ it look like, Jeff?” Eyeless asked, as they stepped through the front door and into a tiny foyer. 

“Cobwebs,” Jeff said, admiring the several that were collecting in the corners. “Dust.”

“It’s not that different from the Mansion, actually,” Toby said, craning his neck to peer up the foyer’s ceiling, where yet more cobwebs gather. He cracked his neck as he looked away from it, striding into what Jeff assumed was the living room. “Dark, creepy, in the middle of nowhere.”

“This room is the den,” BEN said, and Eyeless moved around it, running his hands over the couches and armchairs and the other various things he could find. He steps were exact, counting out the distances between objects. Occasionally, he would click and listen for the echo, measuring out the spatial distances between things he couldn’t feel. 

They went through the rest of the room similarly. Eyeless ran his hands over everything, familiarizing himself with their locations, and he paced each room to get a feel for its size. When they went up the stairs (the house was two stories, plus an attic), Eyeless bumped the toes of his shoes against each one before dedicating his weight to it. Jeff could almost see his mind working, constructing a mental map of the new house to be used later—it must have been exhausting, to feel so lost in a new place, but Eyeless’s dogged determination to figure it out was inspiring. 

By the time they finished scouring the new house, it was late afternoon. Eyeless, looking drained, led them back downstairs. “You guys go get something to eat and rest up, okay? I’m going to take a nap. If you see Hoodie, tell him we’ll set up the new infirmary in a couple of hours. We’ll probably need it before the day’s done, the way you little shits are.”

Jeff grimaced. The idea of a new infirmary—while useful—was a reminder that hey, there was a bullet in his ankle, and it would be coming out soon. “Oh, come on. We’re not  _ that  _ bad.”

Eyeless left them, cackling as though Jeff had told the world’s funniest joke to a raving lunatic. BEN and Toby stared after him, vague concern etched across their faces, and Jeff slapped both of their backs to startle them out of it. 

“What’s the matter with you two? You act like you’ve never seen a madman before,” he said, herding them both towards the kitchen, which the other proxies had begun stocking with food. 

“You think he’ll be okay?” BEN asked, glancing over their shoulders and down the hallway Eyeless had disappeared down.

“You’re not seriously worried about him, are you? It was a joke,” Jeff said.

“No, no—I mean because Slender and him are, you know—”

“Oh.” Jeff glanced thoughtfully at his shoes, warding off the unpleasant thoughts that swelled when he thought about Slender, and Eyeless, the thousand—the future in general, really. “Yeah. He’s Eyeless. He’ll figure it out.”

BEN looked unconvinced, and Jeff jumped to distract him before he could press any further. “What about you?” Jeff asked.

“What about me?” 

“Yeah, what about him?” Toby said, looking cautiously between the two of them. 

“You knew where Slender was—where he was gathering all of the other proxies, and it’s not here. So where is it?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” BEN said, shaking his head hard enough to flip his hair against his cheeks. “I don’t know where that is. I found Slender at the Mansion, remember? I told you that.”

“Yeah, you did,” Jeff said. “You were also the one who told us that Slender was gathering other proxies at the Mansion, and then moving them—so I’m going to assume you know where he was moving them to. Right, BEN?”

BEN met his eyes, and the bright honesty Jeff saw there was enough to sway the sudden intensity of his need to know anything,  _ everything.  _ It was obvious BEN couldn’t help him, anyway. “I really don’t know, Jeff. He wouldn’t tell me. He doesn’t want us to go there.”

Jeff scowled, looking away. “Of course he doesn’t.”

“Does he still not trust us?” Toby asked, the skin around his eyes twitching irritably. “Seriously? Didn’t we prove ourselves at the EMFP compound?”

Jeff set a hand on his shoulder, but Toby brushed it off. “It’s not like that,” he said—although it was like that, really, wasn’t it? “He’s just, uh, overprotective.”

“Yeah,” Toby said, scowling at the carpet. “Whatever.”

“Hey, cheer up. We’re safe now, right?” Jeff said.  _ But the thousand aren’t,  _ his mind reminded him. “Let’s go get something to eat. I’m starving.”

“I’m going to my room,” Toby said. “I’m not really hungry.”

Disappointment welled in Jeff’s chest, but he nodded. Although he didn’t understand Toby’s mood swings, he knew better than to try to alter them, and Toby knew better than himself what Toby needed when he was in the middle of one. If he wanted solitude, then, Jeff wouldn’t argue. 

“But you should eat before tonight, okay, Toby?” BEN said, meeting his eyes. Toby nodded weakly before leaving them, and Jeff returned his gaze to BEN.

“Do you want to eat, anyway?” Jeff asked. 

“I’m literally a ghost.” Jeff’s face must fall, because BEN quickly added, “But I’ll still eat with you, if you want.”

“No, it’s fine,” Jeff said. “I’m sure you have something better to do—kids to scare, computers to infect, whatever it is you do. I’m just gonna grab a snack and then I’m gonna find Slender. I need to talk to him.”

BEN cringed. “Yeah, okay, you can do that by yourself. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Jeff said. 

BEN left, moving back towards the hallway where they’d selected their temporary bedrooms.  _ Temporary,  _ Jeff’s mind sighed.  _ We really hope it’s temporary.  _

This place was nice, but it wasn’t the Mansion. The Mansion had been carved out with experiences, with stories, and this place couldn’t hold a candle to it. Jeff ached to think that the burners could have actually destroyed the Mansion, and so he refused to think it.

Instead, he grabbed a sandwich, gobbled it down in the kitchen, and went to find Slender. The last he had seen of him, he’d been going somewhere with Jack. If he was sticking to old habits, then his office would be on the highest floor, so Jeff headed there. He wove his way through the maze of undecorated hallways and dusty doors. They were eerily empty, and that was the first thing that triggered alarm bells in Jeff’s head—

The second thing was the rising noise in the foyer, and the crowd gathering around Toby. 

It reminded him of a hot, heavy summer (only three months? could it have been that little of a time?) and wounds and questions. Instead of panting through mouthfuls of blood, though, Toby was writing. He stood before the front door, a knife Jeff didn't recognize in his hand, and he carved words into the wood. 

No, not words. Just a single word, Jeff realized, over and over again in a ragged column down the door.

_ Stay,  _ Toby wrote. 

_ Stay _

_ Stay _

_ Stay _

_ Stay _

_ Stay _


	43. In Which Jeff Has a Couple of Convoluted Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler-y trigger warnings at the bottom of the chapter, if you guys need to look at those before reading :3

Jeff bullied his way to the front of the crowd, stepping on toes and driving his elbows into the soft sides of anyone who didn’t step out of the way. “Toby?” he said. Toby’s right hand twitched, his fingers curling, but he offered Jeff no response. “What the hell’re you doing? Toby? Hey, man.” 

Jeff grabbed his arm and yanked it away from the door. Toby snarled, whipping around and slashing his knife dangerously close to Jeff’s face. Reeling backwards, Jeff made a sound that hovered somewhere between surprise and anger—then he balled his hands and slammed his knuckles into Toby’s nose. 

“Quit,” he snapped, his fingers seeking out his own knife where it’s kept, safe and permanent, against his side. 

“No,” Toby said—his voice was loud and angry, but he pressed the knife flat and submissively against his leg. “He’s gonna  _ leave. _ ”

Ah. Of course. Of course Toby would be worried about Slender leaving them again—hell, Jeff’s worried about it, and he doesn’t have the awful history with vanishing father figures that Toby does, vaguely as they are remembered. “Probably. He’ll be fine, though, and if he’s not then he’ll come back. He wouldn’t risk our lives by risking his own.”

“Come  _ on _ , Jeff,” Toby said. “You know he will, even if he doesn't really mean to. Fuck, you know how stubborn Eyeless is. Where d’you think he gets it from?”

“He— ”

“He’s gonna fuckin’  _ leave _ , man, and he won’t come back. He won’t come  _ back,  _ Jeff, and you know why? Go on, take a guess. You seem to know every-fucking-thing else.”

“Oh, fuck off, Toby— ”

“Because the fucking burners can  _ kill  _ demons, Jeff. They’ll kill Slender if he leaves— they’ll kill him faster than any of us. That’s their end goal, that’s what they exist for. You think they won’t?”

“How— ”

“They’re fucking  _ exorcists,  _ Jeff. They’ll kill him if he leaves. He can’t leave. He has to  _ stay.  _ Tell him to stay.” Toby dropped the knife and clutched at the shoulders of Jeff’s Metallica shirt with desperate, bandaged fingers. “Make him stay, Jeff. He’ll listen to you. Please.  _ Please.”  _

Jeff sighed, his irritation with Toby fading in the face of the kid’s blatant fear. He reached up to pat Toby’s inconsiderate curls down, something akin to resignation filling him. “Look,” he said, trying to sound as reluctant as he felt. “Nothing bad is gonna happen. It’s Slenderman we’re talking about, remember? I’m sure he’ll—”

“And when he dies, you know what’ll happen?” Toby demanded, pushing Jeff’s hands away. “ _ We’re  _ going to die. So if you’re not motivated by any kind of loyalty, maybe try listening to your sense of self-preservation.”

“Toby, you have to know that I can’t make Slender’s decisions for him.” He tried not to sound patronizing, but it was difficult, and he failed, if Toby’s expression was anything to go by. 

“How can you be so damn selfish?” Toby demanded, cracking his neck violently to the side. “Think about everyone Slender is hurting because of this stupid-ass decision.” 

“I’m just— ”

“I thought you were supposed to be a leader and now you’re just gonna do what you’re told like a stupid _dog.”_

“I don’t have a fucking  _ choice. _ ”

“You can at least try,” Toby insisted. “You won’t even try and save him. After everything he’s done for you.”

Jeff’s jaw tightened, and he could feel the blood thrumming angrily in his temples. How dare this little shit tell him what to do, tell him he doesn’t  _ care.  _ “The urge to hit you is almost overwhelming.”

“Can’t you please try?” Toby’s eyes softened again, the lines around his mouth easing. The sudden changes in his demeanor were giving Jeff whiplash, goddamn. 

To be fair, that was the probably the point. Toby wasn’t dumb—he knew how play other people just as well as anyone. If he could twist Jeff’s mood around with his own, then hell, Jeff could almost be proud of him. 

Of course, he had an image to uphold. “Well, now you’ve made me mad.”

“Jeff.” Toby groaned and dropped his head against Jeff’s shoulder. It was heavy and smelled faintly like beer and smoke and sweat. Jeff wrinkled his nose. “Sorry. Please.”

Jeff huffed, pushing Toby off of him. “I can’t just go in and tell him to stay. I listen to him, not the other way around—if you hadn’t noticed by now. Besides, what proof do you have that his life will be in danger if he goes? Who said that the EMFP people are exorcists?”

“BEN said.”

“Wow, jeez. That’ll convince him for sure.”

“BEN’s reliable, okay? Slender knows that—or, maybe. But he wouldn’t listen when BEN told him not to go, so.”

“And what good do you think I can do? I don’t know anything more than BEN does.”

“I don’t  _ know.  _ But Slender respects you more than any of us.”

“He respects Eyeless most,” Jeff said.

“Yeah, but him and Eyeless aren’t on the best terms, you know? So please can you just try? Try to get him to stay, let somebody else deal with the EMFP, but if you can’t—maybe at least see if we can go with them? We could—we could kill the burners for them, we’re good at that. They could deal with the leaders, we could deal with the rank-and-file. Right—right, Jeff?”

Jeff sighed, flicked his eyes towards the ceiling. “Right.”

Toby flung himself around Jeff like a fucking monkey, all long limbs and thin muscle. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, you’re the best, I love you.”

“Yeah, whatever. Get the fuck off me.” Jeff scowled, pressing his palms against Toby’s chest and pushing.

“Are you going to go now?” Toby asked, springing back. “You should go now. The sooner the better, right?”

“Actually, I need to talk with him now,” Jack said, materializing out of nonexistent as was his wont. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, his shoulders tight—he looked nervous. It twisted something in Jeff’s stomach. “That is, if it’s alright with him.”

“But—” Toby started, an unhappy crease forming between his brows.

“S’alright, Tobe,” Jeff said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Does it have to be right now, Jack?”

“I mean, that’s better. I won’t be here much longer, so—”

“Yeah you will,” Toby said, brightening immediately and bouncing up on his toes. “Jeff’s gonna make Slender stay, so you’ll stay too. Or at least we’ll go with you, so you can talk later. Right?”

Jeff tilted his head. Not quite a nod, but enough of a movement for Toby to beam again.

“Is that right?” Jack asked. His eyes flickered doubtfully. “Can I just talk to you really quick, anyway, Jeff? Just in case I have to go?”

Jeff shrugged. “Sure.” Toby opened his mouth, and Jeff quickly added, “I’ll talk to Slender before he leaves, Tobe, chill out.” 

Toby huffed but dipped his chin down into a conceding nod. 

“Great.” Jack grinned. “Thanks, Toby. I’ll try not to keep him long.” 

He strode towards the house’s front door, and Jeff followed on his heels, favoring the annoying ache in his ankle. Outside, the sky was dim silver with clouds, brighter in the west, where the sun was dragging itself down to sleep. The wind bit at them, snagging their clothes and pulling clouds of their breath away from their mouths. The grass crunched under their feet as Jack led them farther from the Mansion, away from prying eyes and ears and into the sanctuary of the trees.

“Jack,” Jeff said, slowing his steps even as Jack continued to plunge onward—deeper and deeper into the forest, as though the mere knowledge of the house behind them sets him on edge. “Isn’t this far enough? Nobody can hear. So what’s up?”

Jack looked back over his shoulder and nodded. He turned to face Jeff entirely. His shoulders were stiff, his mouth set in an uneasy line, but he met Jeff’s eyes. “Okay.” He took a deep breath, coughed when it seared his lungs, and shook his head. 

“Come on,” Jeff said. Jack’s stalling made him anxious—what could possibly be bad enough to disturb Jack? “It can’t be that bad. And if it is we can fix it.”

“I never took you to be naive,” Jack said, smiling offhandedly, and hell if that does anything to soothe Jeff’s nerves. 

“Alright, so we can  _ try  _ and fix it. Just fucking spit it out.”

“It’s not that easy.”

Jeff rolled his eyes, trying to quell the nervous flutters in his stomach with false bravado. “Nothing ever is.”

Jack squared himself again. “Right. Anyway, I’m really not sure how to say this—but, well, you know we’re leaving. Me and Slenderman. We’re going to meet the other masters and we’re going to fight the burners. And, uh, I guess you already know that the burners are exorcists. So—”

“Yeah,” Jeff said, cutting him off before he could mention the possibility of their deaths. He knew. He knew, and he didn’t need it to be rehashed every five minutes. “That’s what you’re worried about? I’m gonna talk to Slender. Come on. Don’t be a coward, Jack.”

Jack looked rather alarmed by that, his eyes widening. “What? No. I’m not a coward. I’m not afraid of death. You have no idea how much I’m not afraid of death.”

Jeff cocked his head, regarding Jack warily. “I think I actually might.”

And Jack—bane of all banes—smiled. “Actually, yeah. You might. Which, uh, brings me around to my second point. I’m not afraid of dying. I’m just afraid of leaving stuff behind, of abandoning stuff—like you and the others.”

“You’re not gonna die.”

“Sure.”

“I’m not a fucking liar.” The mere thought of Jack considering him a liar made Jeff’s hackles rise, stiff and angry. 

(The mere thought that that could be a lie coated his mind with terror.)

“Ah, Jeffy, I know that.” Well, that helped some, anyway. “But I figure, on the sheer chance that I might die, I should get some stuff out of the way, and there’s this thing I’ve always kind of wanted to do. Well, not always. Maybe for a couple months. And maybe more than just the one thing—but I’m just going to do the one thing, because I really respect the person I want to do it with. Do you think that would be alright?”

Jeff felt the urge to step away, but that would be ridiculously submissive. He wasn’t afraid of fucking  _ Jack.  _ Maybe he should have been, but he wasn’t. He wouldn’t be. He was only nervous. Jack was being ridiculously vague, and Jeff didn’t like the places his mind was jumping to. The tone of Jack’s voice seemed foreboding, but Jeff was probably overthinking it. 

Right?

“Gee, that’s about as clear as mud,” he said, skirting around an answer, crossing his arms over his chest and jutting his chin up. 

Jack’s eyes narrowed guiltily. “Sorry. I suck at this.”

That eased his mind some, because Jack wasn’t doing anything to  _ him  _ so he had to mean there was something he wanted to do with someone else (who he really respected). Unfortunately, the thought of that also made his chest kind of tight, his shoulders hot. As a result, his words were more clipped than he wanted them to be when he spoke, but hey. He was cold and stressed and confused. “Yeah. You do.”

Jack took a deep breath, and then he stepped forward, setting his hands on Jeff’s shoulders. Jeff stiffened. They were gentle, not restraining, but their very weight was imminently threatening. It reminded him of how much bigger Jack was, how easily Jack could kill him, how easily Jack could force him to do anything. 

He shook the touch off.

Jack looked wounded, his mouth pulling tight. The look in his eyes was overbright and earnest and terrifying. “Dammit, Jeff,” he said, his voice morphing into something pleading and misunderstood. “I’m not gonna—dammit. Just—I just—I—I’d never hurt you, okay? Swear on my life. You’re safe, Jeff, okay? Why can’t you understand that? You’re safe.  _ I’m  _ safe.”

Jeff’s skin prickled, his heart jumping against his ribs. What the fuck was Jack on about? “Yeah, I know. What the fuck do you want?”

“No you  _ don’t  _ know,” Jack said, stamping a foot on the ground. It was a childish gesture, but some twisted, scared thing in Jeff’s mind saw a bull working itself up to charge and gore him.  _ Predator _ , his lizard-brain said, in its persistent, low murmur. _ Threat. Step back.  _

Jeff stepped back. 

Jack’s eyes flared with helpless rage, and suddenly stepping back wasn’t enough—Jeff needed to bolt, he needed to disappear, he needed—“Damnit. But I’m going to make sure you know you know that I’m safe, Jeff, before I go. I have to.” 

Jeff’s fingers grazed over the hilt of his knife.  _ Pointless, it’s pointless,  _ his mind screeched. What a helpfully pessimistic thing.  _ He’ll kill us, he’ll kill us, run run run. _

But Jeff wasn’t a coward, and Jack wouldn’t actually hurt him. (Right?) Anyway, he’d rather die fighting than face a life after running—damned if leaving Eyeless at the EMFP compound hadn’t reinforced that ideal. 

So, he pulled his knife out of its sheathe. The sound was gratingly loud in the silky quiet of the forest, and both of them flinched. But he wasn’t actually going to hurt Jack (right?), he just wanted to be sure, he was just being cautious— _ pointless. _

Jack’s fingers wrapped around his wrists before he could move any further and trapped them against his sides, strong and firm and Jeff’s heart was leaping, his legs scrambling to move his body backwards. Jack crowded him against a tree, fumbling to seize his knife, towering and dark and then—

Then he kissed Jeff. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a scene that could be considered dub-con near the end of the chapter. It's fairly mild and short. Essentially, Jack kisses Jeff without explicit permission, but with no ill intent or desire to do anything more than kiss.


	44. In Which Jeff and Jack Partake In Something That Actually Resembles Communication

Jack’s mouth tasted like warm air and cinnamon candy. His kiss wasn’t hard or rough or demanding or anything like Jeff thought it would be—actually, it was gentle. Firm, but gentle. Jeff moved his head forward, away from the tree, and felt Jack shift back the littlest bit to accommodate him. He wasn’t trying to trap Jeff, then.

Even so, Jeff couldn’t put up with it. He jerked his head back again, his scalp barely grazing the tree. It was enough space to get Jack’s lips off of his, and then to smash their foreheads together with a resounding  _ crack  _ that he fucking hoped hurt Jack as much as it hurt him _.  _

“—motherfucking bitch how  _ fucking  _ dare you, I’ll—”

“Jeffy—”

“—spine through your goddam  _ eyes,  _ you—”

“ _ Jeffy—”  _

“—them in a fucking  _ bow  _ and hang—”

“Jeffy, lemme explain?” Jack moved back, but he kept his hands tight around Jeff’s wrist, pushing the knife away from both of their bodies.

“No fucking way, bitch, I’ll tear—”

Jack’s mouth twitched into a half-smile and he shook his head. “Alright.” 

He spun Jeff around, clamped him against his chest, dropped his chin onto Jeff’s head, and waited. Jeff squirmed against his chest, thrashed until he was panting through curses and feeling painfully like a trapped rat—the knife was a sharp, cold safety blanket in the palm of his hand, but he couldn’t twist it to hurt Jack at all. 

Jack held him steadily, not quite tight and not quite loose. Really, it wasn’t even a struggle for him—and that infuriated Jeff, at first. And then it started to scare him. He cursed less and panicked more, because the blade of his knife felt weaker and more useless the longer Jack kept it under his control. 

Jack must have noticed his growing fear, because soft kisses were suddenly scattered against the back of his head. While part of Jeff wanted to recoil, a larger, hungrier part of him was ridiculously soothed by the gesture.“It’s okay Jeffy, you’re okay, I won’t hurt you. Not for anything. Shh, calm down.”

Jeff stopped struggling, momentarily, and slumped against Jack’s chest. “Let go,” he said, because Jack was stronger and deadlier and Jeff had seen him kill and he didn’t want to be that close to someone that threatening. Not even if they were saying they wouldn’t hurt him. Not even if he wanted to believe them. “Let go.”

“No,” Jack said. “Not like this. Not until you drop the knife.” He  _ can’t  _ do that, he can’t, it’s—“It’s  _ alright,  _ Jeff, I promise. You’re safe.” He lowered them both to the ground, settling Jeff in his lap and carding a hand through his hair. 

Neither of them spoke again for a while. Jack let Jeff breathe, and think, and it was eerily understanding and peaceful of him. They watched their breath swirl in the air, watched as the sun crammed itself through the trees and began to glisten off of the frost. They listened as birdsong began, and to the subtle shift of their clothes with the breeze. 

“What do you want?” Jeff asked, eventually, because as nice as shirking the elephant in the room was (Jack was holding him, Jack had  _ kissed  _ him), it wasn’t in Jeff’s nature to do so for long. Something in him always wanted to move forward, and out, and he was helpless to avoid it even now. 

“Well, I want you to put the knife away, and—well, I just wanted to let you know before I left,” Jack said, “that I really,  _ really  _ kind of like you a lot. And that I know why you are how you are.”

“Yeah?” Jeff asked, the side of his mouth twisting up—arrogant bastard. Even Jeff didn’t know why he was the way he was. 

“Yeah.” Jack pressed his lips behind Jeff’s ear, and it wasn’t terrible. “Is that okay?”

Jeff released a shuddering breath. “Yeah.”

“It’s all about safety with you, Jeffy,” Jack murmured, and a quiet, internal flinch runs through Jeff’s body. “I’m safe.”

Jeff chuckled ruefully—yeah, he wished, but safety was relative. “Right.”

“No, I am.” Jack stretched his free arm—the one that wasn’t holding Jeff’s knife hand—away from them and wiggled his fingers. “See? It’s all yours, Jeff. It’ll only ever do what’s best for you.”

“How do you think it’ll know what’s best for me?” Jeff asked, prickling some. 

“Well, physically speaking, that’s easy—whatever keeps you alive and healthy. Mentally and emotionally, well, you might just have to help it figure that out. If—if you want to, that is.”

Jeff let his head fall back against Jack’s chest and rolled his eyes up to examine the bottom of Jack’s chin. “You’re leaving.”

“Mm-hm,” Jack said, and Jeff saw the slight downturn of his mouth.

“You’re not coming back.”

“We don’t know that.”

Jeff sighed. Yeah, maybe they didn’t know. But if Toby was right—“So what do you want? In case you don’t come back?” 

That was what this was about, wasn’t it? Jack had to want something, something to bolster him on his way towards death or—at least—a difficult fight and a few weeks away from their family. That might have bothered Jack more than he’d want to admit, Jeff realized. From what he knew about Jack’s past, his fear of abandonment was sharp and honed. Jeff also realized, in the same second, that as much as it bothered his pride, he might be willing to give Jack whatever he wanted.

“I just wanted you to know.” 

Was that disappointment or relief welling in Jeff’s chest? 

“So, uh, do you feel like maybe putting your knife away, now?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Jeff slid his baby back into its holster, pulling Jack’s wary hand along with his until it was snugged safely away. Then Jack shuffled him forward and cold cupped his back where Jack had shielded him from the crisp air. Standing, Jack offered Jeff a hand—which Jeff (not shyly, dammit, cautiously) accepted—and pulled him onto his feet. 

Jack released his hand once he was balanced, but his own hovered awkwardly between them for a few seconds before starting to drop back to his side. Without letting himself think (impulsitivty has ever been his strong suit) Jeff reached out and cautiously wrapped his fingers around Jack’s. Jack beamed, bright and surprised—so maybe it was alright. Maybe it was even good. 

“Do you have to go?” Jeff asked, ignoring the new weight in his hand and the growing, curious thing behind his ribs that might be the start of actual fucking fondness. 

“Orders,” Jack said, smiling apologetically and starting back towards the not-Mansion. Jeff grudgingly followed him. He’d have to talk to Toby, and Slender, and it felt too soon, too rushed, leaving this place—couldn’t they have time just to themselves? Not to do anything, just to—just to be together. To understand and comprehend everything. What were they? What would they be? What could they be? What did they want to be?

But there were orders, and they sacrificed their freedom for their safety. Well—safety for the greater percentage, and the hope that they’d be in that percentage. But, Jeff was coming to realize far, far too quickly—Jack’s lanky stride, his glittering eyes and his warm fingers, his feathers and his stupid nose and his gleeful smile—those weren’t in that percentage.


	45. In Which Slender Is an Unfortunately Clever Bastard and Starts a Fight

Slender allowed Jeff to speak with him in his office. He sat behind a desk, smaller and dustier and emptier than the one at the Mansion. Jack stood behind Jeff, his hands tucked into his pockets, his chin drooping towards his collarbone. Jeff was under no disillusion that this was a sign of support—Jack would obey Slender, whether he agreed with Jeff or not. It was an unfortunately irritating revelation. Understandable, but irritating. 

_ —and Toby’s worried, I mean, you know how he gets,  _ Jeff said, _ and Eyeless isn’t in a position to enforce authority since he’s hurt and now’s not really a good time to leave everybody here, you know, it’ll fuck up the balance. Might be that more of us’ll die trapped here than if we went with you, so I was thinking—  _

Slender shook his head and folded his fingers together before him, his sleeves sliding across the dust in his desktop.  _ Jeffrey, I understand that you may be having doubts about your own aptitude as a leader. I have no such doubts. Where Eyeless is incapacitated, you will take his place. You will keep them under control. You performed admirably while you were away from the Mansion, child, and I’m very proud. I expect you will keep up the good work.  _

_ But all the newbies, they don’t understand. They’re hard to control—and I’m, well, like, I’m just me. It’ll take physical authority—I mean, maybe if you left Jack to help me—  _

_ Hoodie and the others will help you, certainly? I don’t question their loyalty. _

_ Well, of course not,  _ Jeff agreed.  _ But—  _

_ And the new proxies are all humans. I made sure of that. There should be no problem. If there is, you could always cede leadership to Hoodie or BEN. They will be managing administration and scheduling for me in my absence, anyhow. _

Jeff clenched his jaw and ground his teeth together. He couldn’t just be imaging the patronizing tone in Slender’s voice, could he?  _ No, that’s fine. But— _

_ If it is your ankle bothering you, I’m sure Eyeless could heal you in an efficient amount of time, and in such a way as to not influence your leadership capabilities for more than a few hours. It is a greenstick fracture, correct? _

_ Ugh, no, I’m not worried about any of that. I’m just saying, none of us are going to be happy here. Can’t we all just— _

_ No.  _ Slender pulled his shoulders farther back, his voice harding, and Jeff gulped.  _ You will stay here. Jeffrey, there are thirteen masters. While not all of them are as powerful as you’re accustomed to, they are entirely strong enough to overcome any challenge the EMFP may present. You can tell Toby such, if he’s that worried. I don’t need help from any of you. You’re only human.  _

_ Eyeless isn’t. BEN isn’t. _

_ Do you want me to take them with me, too? I thought you would want a strong support group to remain here in my absence. Unless, of course, you would prefer to control the new proxies on your own. _

Jeff huffed and almost stamped his foot against the carpet, but caught himself and merely scuffed it with the toe of his sneaker.  _ No. But if the masters are so strong why do you have to take Jack? Why can’t he be part of the support group or whatever? And— _

Slender stood up suddenly, looming his considerable height over Jeff. Jeff leaned back and heard Jack shuffle nervously—and, in the same unfortunate second, realized that he’d grown accustomed to hearing Jack around the Mansion, out on the road, in the van, with their family. He was coming to realize he didn’t want to lose that, even in the face of Slender’s anger.

Was it love? No. That would be stupid. Affection? Well—maybe. He wasn’t averse to having Jack around, as long as it didn’t fuck with his authority. Romance? Did he want to kiss the guy? The idea wasn’t totally awful. But he wouldn’t be able to have any of that if Jack left, would he? And there’d be no more stupid hyena laughter and sticky lollipop hands and strange white eyes. 

So, instead of shrinking away from Slender like he wanted to, Jeff lifted his chin, and he argued.  _ What? Jack’s not as powerful as a master, is he? So why do you need him? _

_ The relationship between the two of you, whatever it may be, will not interfere with your responsibilities as my proxies. If it does, I will terminate it. I will terminate you. Is that clear? _

Jeff tried to keep the hurt from flashing across his face, but he’d thought—well, fuck, he’d thought Slender cared about their lives. Hadn’t that been what BEN said? Hadn’t that been right? Why else would he risk his own life for them? Jeff wanted to believe that Slender said it out of anger, that it was just a bluff—but since when did Slender make bluffs? 

Confusion fed his irritation, and Jeff bore his teeth and snarled,  _ Fine. Then take us all with you. Or at least me. _

_ I’m disappointed.  _ Slender shook his head and strode away from the desk, skirting around Jeff. He picked up the bag by the door and slung it over his shoulder.  _ Jack, gather your things and go outside. Jeffrey, you will come with me.  _

Jeff felt the bite of command and stormed after Slender, into the living room. He caught the flash of Jack slipping away in the other direction, and his heart clenched—was that the last time he would see Jack? No, no, no. He couldn’t think that way. 

Slender stood in front of the foyer and slowly, their minds compelled by the same order, all of his proxies trickled into the room and stood before him. Their eyes were unusually solemn. Jeff could see Toby near the back of the room, hunched over himself and twitching nervously. He spared Jeff a hopeful glance, which was staunchly avoided.

“You talked to him.” Eyeless materialized at Jeff’s shoulder, his mask settled broodingly over his face. Jeff’s heart scrambled towards his throat in fear but doesn’t quite make it, dragged down by the weight of his failure. 

“Yeah,” Jeff said. His jaw creaked and popped as he ground it, and Eyeless winced.

“That bad, huh?”

“I don’t know why I expected anything else.”

“Hope isn’t a bad thing.” Eyeless sighed, and the sound was hollowed behind the shield of his mask. “Most of the time, anyway.”

Jeff grunted and returned his attention to the front of the room, where Slender was waiting for the last few stragglers to enter. He didn’t want to argue with Eyeless, but he wasn’t in the mood to agree with—well, anything, if he was honest. And he  _ was  _ honest. Always. 

Not like his stupid parents. Not like Slenderman.

“I have an idea,” Eyeless said, and curiosity was enough to quell those thoughts.

“What?” Jeff side-eyed him. 

“Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions, but I feel like I know Slender well enough to figure out what he’ll do next. Then again—well, that hasn’t worked out so well these last few months. If I’m right, though, I’ll let you in my plan. It should make you happy.”

If anyone else were to give him such a vague answer, Jeff would have been pissed. With Eyeless, though, he found that that wasn’t the case. It must have been because Eyeless had never failed him before, when it came to weaseling them out of tight situations. Eyeless was the leader of the proxies—he was  _ Jeff’s  _ leader, and Jeff was nothing but a hypocrite if he didn’t trust in that. So, he tipped his head, and he accepted Eyeless’s bullshit answer. “Okay. When do you find out if you’re right?”

“Soon, if all of the little punks will hurry up and get here.” Jeff could almost hear the scowl in Eyeless’s voice as he glanced towards the proxies still cramming themselves into the room. “This place isn’t that big. Where’ve they been, that it’s taking them ten minutes to show up?”

“It might not be where they’ve been so much as it is what they were doing,” Jeff said. 

Eyeless shuddered and made a gagging sound. “Nasty. Didn’t need that image, Jeff-boy, but thanks.”

“Hey, I didn’t specify anything. And just because you don’t like sex doesn’t mean all the proxies around here don’t.”

“Oh, I know that. But hey-hey, since we’re on the subject of sex, a little birdie told me you and our resident clown went out for a  _ walk  _ today—”

“And it was just a walk,” Jeff said, his voice chilling.  _ Our resident clown,  _ his mind hissed petulantly.  _ Our resident clown who’s leaving. Who just up says ‘Hey, I like you,’ and ‘Bye,’ in the same breath. Goddamnit.  _ Ugh, and why we he so mad about it? It wasn’t like Jack had a choice.

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t know. I thought you two—y’know. Liked each other.” 

“Later.” Jeff’s voice remained clipped, but he found his shoulders loosening at the genuine apology in Eyeless’s tone. 

“Sure,” Eyeless said. 

They lapsed into silence as the final proxies drifted in. A few moments later, Slender—who had been stooped to speak with a young proxy, a gesture that Jeff found absurdly unnecessary, what with telepathy, and thus irritating—drew himself up to his full, formidable height. His head brushed the ceiling and Jeff was reminded again, bitterly, that this house was not the Mansion.

_ Children,  _ Slender said, and each head turned quickly towards him in a wave of focused movement.  _ I will be leaving today. Laughing Jack and I are traveling to meet with several other masters and to discuss what is to be done about the EMFP. I expect to return by the end of the month. There is food enough stockpiled here for you, should you follow the meal plan that I have outlined—and you  _ will  _ follow it. _

A rumble of agreement surged through the crowd, and Slender nodded, satisfied. 

_ Very good. There is also a job schedule to be followed. Jobs are to be completed in randomized locations and in a timely manner. You will have no more than six hours to complete a job. Failure to return to this house after that time period will result in your death.  _

The proxies—already quiet, save for absent-minded shuffling and movement—fell entirely silent. It was so they couldn’t follow him when they were released from the house on a job, Jeff knew, but death—

Why was Slender so serious about this?

_ Deviation from the job schedule is only to made in case of emergencies, and must be discussed with Eyeless Jack, Jeffrey, or Hoodie beforehand. Both of these schedules have been posted in the kitchen and texted to your phones, should you wish to see them. With the exception of your jobs and life-threatening situations, you are forbidden to leave this house—again, on pain of death. _

The hooks in their minds tightened subtly, and Jeff had no doubt that the orders had been seared into their minds. Until Slender revoked or altered them, they were a truth. To step foot outside of the house now meant death, and Jeff felt his stomach plummet at the thought. A month stuck in a small, unfamiliar house packed to the ceiling with serial killers?

A month until they were all dead anyway, because how could proxies live when their master was exorcised?

Jeff swore he heard Slender’s mental voice waver as he took a deep breath, straightening his shoulders.  _ I am grateful for your continued cooperation. I will see you in a few weeks. If I have not returned in the predicted timeframe, I shall send someone to inform you of my whereabouts and your new instructions. You are now dismissed. _

Slender turned, briskly, and ducked through the door. The proxies he left in his wake didn’t move, restrained by the air of solemnity that Slender’s words left them with. They must have been confused—after all, Jeff was confused, and he had talked firsthand with Slender about his plans. Was the abruptness of Slender’s announcement part of his plan? 

Fuckin’ cunning bastard. The baffled, anxious murmurs that were beginning to flicker through the small crowd forced Eyeless to move, shoving his way to the front of the crowd. If left to their own devices with such unforgiving and unprecedented orders, and with the terrible upset to the established hierarchy that came with the absolute authority’s sudden absence—

Well, Jeff had no doubt that the proxies would be raising hell, if only to reassure themselves that they still could, and to distract themselves from the sudden surge of unpleasant emotion they must have been feeling. Jeff knew it was what he would do, if the weight of his leadership had not suddenly and unrelentingly grown.

He also knew that was what must be going through Eyeless’s mind as he stood at the front of the room, lifting his chin as though to defy the rapidly swelling noise in front of him. Voices were rising, panic surging—

Slender’s departure was too fast, too soon, for his proxies to come to terms with. They were floundering as the secure foundation they had only just had returned to them was jerked away. They were searching for something else to ground them. 

And that was what Slender wanted, wasn’t it? He wanted the crowd to stir, he wanted them to be agitated by his sudden leaving—he wanted them to seize onto another leader with no complaint, and that was what they would do when they were floundering for something safe and sensible to rest in. 

“Listen,” Eyeless said. His voice rose to be heard over the crowd, but he didn’t shout. His tone remained calm and solid—a fact for which Jeff was absurdly grateful. “Listen up, guys.”

The crowd focused on him. Their eyes were flickering frantically from person to person, their hands twitching for their weapons, and Jeff sensed that something akin to a riot was waiting in the wings. It was waiting for Eyeless to falter, to prove himself weak, and for the crowd to decide with a collective, bestial mind that he wasn’t a suitable leader.

It shouldn’t have bothered.

“Stop freaking out,” Eyeless said. “You heard what Slenderman said, didn’t you? His orders were explicit and understandable. We’re going to follow each of them to the letter. Does anyone have a problem with that?”

The crowd rumbled, and they must have decided on a champion to speak for them, because a familiar face stepped forward. His hair was longer, his face bonier, but the scar that Jeff gave him all those months again still stood out vividly—Josh. It was almost predictable. The kid couldn’t keep his mouth shut. 

“Yeah,” Josh said, and he squared his body off to Eyeless’s. He was broader and sturdier—heavy and strong where Eyeless was wiry and agile. Even so, Jeff was certain of Eyeless’s victory. 

Then Eyeless shifted his weight, and his right shoulder hitched up—a barely perceptible wince. 

_ Fuck.  _ Jeff’s eyes widened, his body tensing. How could he have forgotten? How could he have possibly forgotten, even for a second—

_ Eyeless’s hands were coated with blood, and the sound of a gunshot still rang in Jeff’s ears. “Fine. Fine, let's fight. Now. We'll do it your fucking way, Jeff.” _

Oh, no. Eyeless was a brilliant actor, but for all he could strut around with his confidence and his wit, he couldn’t fake his way through a real fight when he was injured. 

_ “You sure bided your time well, kid,” Eyeless said. Guilt swamped Jeff alongside the raw fear he felt when he thought about Eyeless dying. He didn’t want to be leader—what was Eyeless thinking? Jeff would  _ never  _ want to usurp him.“Waited for just the right minute. You want to be boss so bad, let's go.” _

Was that what Josh was doing? Was he actually that intelligent? If there was ever a time to make a leader out of himself, this was it. All of the proxies were gathered, Eyeless was injured, and there was a reason to challenge him. 

As much faith as Jeff had in Eyeless’s fighting skills, he couldn’t risk the stability of the group by letting Josh fight him while he was hurt. What could he do, though? If Jeff tried to break up the fight, he and Eyeless would both be seen as cowards, avoiding a fair fight—and therefore, Josh would be the victor by default. If Jeff tried to take Eyeless’s place, everyone’s confidence in Eyeless would be damaged—why would he let Jeff fight for him if he could fight for himself?

There was only one thing that Jeff could see to do, and he did it before he could think about too much, just like he did—well, everything, mostly. 


	46. In Which There’s a Lot of Unnecessary Talking and Then Some Fighting and Stuff

“What’s the problem, Josh?” Eyeless asked, his voice cold. He stepped towards Josh, sliding one of his scalpels out of his pocket. The idea of solving the problem without fighting, although he was injured, seemed to have never occurred to him. And why would it? Fighting was one of the few things that made sense to Slender’s proxies.

And, although ordinarily Jeff would embrace that ideal, he found that it was actually beginning to trouble him.

“I’ve got quite a few problems, too, now that you mention it,” Jeff said, roughly shouldering his way to the front of the crowd. He ignored the quick, surprised turn of Eyeless’s head and shot Josh an arrogant glare. “And they’re infinitely more important than yours, motherfucker. What do you want? More food? More leeway? More time for your petty arguments? Hell, didn’t your mom ever teach you that kids should be seen, not heard? Stop bothering the people who actually know what they’re doing, ‘kay, asshole?”

Josh’s nose wrinkled, his lips pulling down into a tight, controlled frown. He was doing well to make himself seem impressive and mature to the others, Jeff had to admit. “Like you’ve got room to talk. Did your mom ever get around teaching you that, or did you murder her first?”

Anger, sharp and blinding, flared in Jeff’s chest, chasing the heels of an image that flashed behind his eyes—a woman with dark hair and amber eyes, the smell of baking bread sticking to her clothes like burrs. He rested his hand against the smooth, cold hilt of his knife and drew it. It would be so easy to slam it through Josh’s neck, so horribly, exhilaratingly easy.

“Jeff.” Eyeless’s voice cracked through the quiet, tense air like a whip. All eyes swiveled to him, unconsciously accustomed to responding to his voice—

Because he was their  _ leader,  _ fuck it. Why the hell would they want Josh?

They didn’t, really, Jeff knew. Just as they would unconsciously obey Eyeless, they would unconsciously be looking for weakness. Any weakness from the leadership was a threat to them. If they saw it in Eyeless, he would lose his standing with them. It wouldn’t be a formal switch, but subconsciously they would seek out a stronger person to follow—like Josh, if he managed to claw his way into their respect.

That wasn’t something that Jeff could allow.  _ Wolves. We’re all just fucking wolves.  _

“What?” Jeff snapped, glancing at Eyeless. “Do you wanna fight, too?”

Eyeless’s body stiffened—with surprise, and not anger, Jeff hoped. God, he wished he could see Eye’s face behind his mask. “That depends,” Eyeless said, his voice cautious, “on what the stakes are.”

“Just your pride,” Jeff said, sneering. Could Eyeless understand what he was trying to do? They both knew Eyeless’s pride didn’t matter much to him—so maybe he could tell that Jeff was only posturing? Only playing the game that Josh was demanding of them? “Although that means a lot to you, huh, you egotistical bastard?”

Eyeless moved closer to them, flipping his scalpel skillfully around his fingers. He lifted his chin, and Jeff was sure that he was scenting them both—trying to pry out their intentions, their motives. Jeff struggled to smell as nonthreatening as possible, but hell if he knew how to do that.

“It does, actually,” Eyeless said, stopping between them. “And I have a feeling that I’m going get very angry, very fast, if the both of you don’t fuck off and let me do my job.”

“Fuck you, fuck your job,” Josh said. Noise rumbled through the crowd, and the proxies began drifting away from the three of them. They didn’t leave the room, though—of course not. They all wanted to know who would win this stupid argument, who would be worth listening to. 

Good. Jeff was going to make sure they knew. 

“You get to act all high and mighty when Slender’s here, but not now,” Josh said, cracking his knuckles. “Not anymore. How’d you get him to protect you in the first place? How many blowjobs d’you give him? How many times d’you let him fuck you?”

Jeff could sense Eyeless’s hackles rising—with good reason he supposed, since Josh was dragging Eyeless’s and Slender’s (entirely platonic and  _ mostly _ respectful) relationship through the mud. Although Eyeless might not be happy with Slender at the moment, Jeff knew he would hate for anyone to badmouth the closest thing he had to a father—or a mother, or a mentor, or hell, a savior. It ticked Jeff off, and he knew he didn’t have a bond with Slender anywhere close to that of the one Eyeless had.  

That being what it was, he had to jump to quickly redirect Josh’s attention before Eyeless crushed his throat. It wouldn’t be any good if Eyeless started  _ wanting  _ to fight. “You’re gonna wanna back off if you like your life, bud,” Jeff said, angling his body between the two of them.

“He couldn’t kill me,” Josh said, rolling his eyes like the very idea was ridiculous. What a fuckin’ idiot. Had he never seen Eyeless fight before?

“He wouldn’t have to,” Jeff said, and he smiled—not his happy smile, because that one was reserved for his family—but his savage, animalistic smile. The one that stretched the gaps beside his mouth and showed off all of his teeth. “I would.”

“Yeah, but my fight isn’t with you, motherfucker.” Josh said. “It’s with Eyeless.”

A hand clamped down on Jeff’s shoulder, warm and firm. Jeff whipped his head around to look at Eyeless, standing tall and ominous behind him. “He’s right, Jeff. His fight is with me.”

“No,” Jeff said, hooking his fingers under Eyeless’s and prying his hand off. “It’s with me—and so is yours.”

“Is that right?” Eyeless asked, his words flat. 

“No, it’s not,” Josh snapped. He stepped closer to them. They were already too close together, each of them trying to impose himself upon the others. It was nerve-wracking. Jeff hadn’t had a stand-off like this for years—maybe he was getting soft. Ick.

Yet another reason Jeff couldn’t possibly let Josh win. “I’ll fight you first, of course,” Jeff said, waving one of his hands nonchalantly at Josh. “That’s a formality.”

Josh’s eyes suddenly brightened with understanding and Jeff saw his jaw tighten. “You little shit,” he hissed, his voice low. “You don’t want to fight Eyeless. You’re only doing this because you don’t want me to fight him, because he’s—”

“Because he’s what?” Jeff asked, raising an eyebrow. “Is there some kind of disadvantage he’s at? If that’s so, then you fighting him wouldn’t be very fair, I think—actually, it’d be pretty sleazy. I wouldn’t put much stock into a fight like that, but that’s a personal opinion.”

Josh’s nostrils flared, and Jeff felt a surge of victory. He was so terribly clever—was this was manipulating people felt like? He could get behind it. “No,” Josh said, the words pushing their way through gritted teeth. “There’s no disadvantage. Right, Eyeless?”

“Absolutely not,” Eyeless said. “But I’m getting pretty sick of all this talking—we’re not politicians. Let’s make a decision. I’ve got things to do. It doesn’t matter which one of you shits I have to beat first, I just want to get it done.”

“Fine. We’ll fight,” Jeff said, gesturing between himself and Josh. “Whoever wins will fight Eyeless.”

“Fine,” Josh snarled. His face was twisted unhappily, and Jeff couldn’t help but preen some.  _ Foiled your plan, you bastard,  _ he thought cheerfully. 

Or, well—he’d almost foiled Josh’s plan. He just had to actually, y’know,  _ win  _ the fight. While he was largely confident in his abilities, it had been awhile since he’d last had the chance to utilize them. His ankle was also injured, and although it was tolerable to walk on, he would have to be cautious during the fight. And Josh wasn’t simply a victim, he was another proxy. Jeff would have to be careful not to underestimate him. 

“Well?” Eyeless said. He had already moved away from them, merging with the crowd to watch. “What are you waiting for?”

Jeff squared off, falling into a well-practiced fighting stance. As Josh put a few feet of space between them, Jeff seized the chance to look at the crowd one last time. Eyeless was near the front, his arms crossed broodingly over his chest and his chin dropped. BEN was in the back with Toby—both of their faces were etched with worry for him, and it warmed Jeff’s heart. The little brats actually cared. 

Their worry didn’t do much for his confidence, though. His eyes continued to roam the crowd, searching out his friends’ faces. Masky and Hoodie were off to the side, leaning heavily against one another. When he met their eyes as best he could through their masks, they both nodded encouragingly, although he was willing to bet they were as worried as Toby and BEN.

Still, the thought of their support was heartening. They had to know that he actually didn’t want to fight Eyeless. They knew him, so why wouldn’t they know that?

Even Liu was present, standing next to Smiledog, a frown etched into his face. The only part of his family who was missing was Jack, and Jeff refused to think about that. It wouldn’t do anything but drag him down, and he needed to be on top of his game when he was fighting Josh. 

Finally satisfied, Jeff took a deep breath and returned his attention to his opponent. Josh was finishing a stretch, and he fell into a fighting stance as Jeff’s eyes landed on him. “No weapons,” Jeff said, unbuckling his holster with an apologetic pat. 

“Why? You afraid?” Josh said.

“No, but I don’t want to kill you by mistake,” Jeff said. He tossed his knife, safely tucked into its holster, to Eyeless. “Of course, if you’re a coward, you can keep yours on you.”

Josh made an irritated growling noise, but pulled his machete off of his back and threw it to one of his friends. “Are we done talking now?” he asked.

Sure. What else was there to talk about? Without giving himself the chance to think, Jeff lunged. Josh didn’t hesitate or falter as he pulled back his fist, and Jeff was quick to catalogue the few things he learned in those seconds—Josh was right-handed, not easy to surprise, and unwilling to retreat. 

He was still just a stupid brute, though. At least, that’s what it seemed like, and that’s what Jeff hoped. But if Josh had been clever enough to target Eyeless when he was injured, Jeff couldn’t afford to dismiss him as an idiot. So instead of continuing with his lunge, Jeff drew back and allowed Josh’s fist to brush the air in front of him. 

When Jeff retreated, Josh advanced, and once again Jeff discovered important information—Josh was an offensive fighter, and his steps were too large. He was used to fighting at a distance, Jeff presumed. It would make sense if he used his machete regularly. 

Unfortunately for him, Jeff was experienced with close-up fighting, since his knife blade was only six inches long. Closing the distance between them, Jeff feinted a strike at Josh’s stomach. This, predictably, brought Josh’s hands down to defend himself, and when Jeff saw that they were out of the way, he twisted out of his feint and smashed his knuckles into Josh’s nose. 

Maybe it was the fact that he reveled in the sickening crunch beneath his fist for a second too long, or maybe it was the fact that he had expected Josh to falter, if only for a split second—and maybe it really didn’t matter  _ why,  _ but Josh discovered an opening and wrapped his fingers around Jeff’s throat. What mattered then was getting away from him, Jeff found, because his air was quickly and brutally cut off.

Fighting against his body’s instinctive panic, Jeff clawed at Josh’s hand. He left little red streaks, and Josh’s face creased with anger. The hand around his throat grew tighter, and wasn’t  _ that  _ unpleasant. It was what he wanted, though, because it told him that he’d managed to focus Josh’s attention on his struggling. 

Arrogance, Jeff had discovered, was not becoming in a fight. Anywhere else, it was entirely acceptable—around the right people, of course—but not in a fight. Underestimating his opponents had seldom left Jeff with the upper hand, and it seemed like the time had come for him to pass on some of his hard-earned knowledge. 

_ You’re focusing too much on what you’ve succeeded at,  _ Jeff thought, driving his nails hard into the flesh of Josh’s hand.  _ You’re not worrying enough. _

Josh’s other hand came up to bat away Jeff’s fingers, leaving the rest of his body completely undefended. Jeff snapped up the opportunity when he saw it, lifting his foot and slamming it into Josh’s crotch. 

Below the belt? Oh, yeah.

Josh’s face blanched, the color draining rapidly from it and his fingers loosening. Jeff gulped in air, curling his hands more firmly around Josh’s wrist. Josh’s arm stayed rigid for a few precious seconds after Jeff kicked him, and Jeff used it as pivot point to bring his feet up, leveling them with Josh’s stomach and kicking out.

The blow freed Jeff’s throat from the weakened grasp of Josh’s fingers and shoved them both away from each other. Jeff twisted before he hit the ground, landing in a neat crouch that didn’t even twist his injured ankle. He didn’t have the time to feel proud of it—his attention was immediately fixated on Josh again. He couldn’t afford any overconfidence, not when Eyeless’s leadership was on the line. 

But maybe—just maybe—he could feel exhilarated, because this was a  _ fight.  _ It was real and rushing and alive, and Jeff understood it. He  _ claimed  _ it. 

“You  _ fuck,”  _ Josh said, staggering with his arms folded over his stomach. His teeth were bared in a vile snarl, coated red with the blood streaming from his nose.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you expect me to lay down and let you walk all over me? I’m sure you’re used to that—everyone’s your little bitch, huh?” Jeff said, pretending to polish gross flecks of Josh’s skin from his nails. Appearing proud and in control to the crowd was something entirely different from  _ feeling  _ proud and in control, he decided. One was necessary for the statement he was struggling to make— _ I’m strong, I’m strong, look at me, I’m a  _ leader—whereas the other was dangerously unacceptable.

He could only hope that Josh wouldn’t catch onto that before the fight ended, but Josh was smarter than Jeff wanted him to be. That was an unfortunate truth. It wouldn’t be logical to draw out Josh’s thinking time any more than was strictly appropriate.

Jeff straightened, ignoring the dull ache in his throat. To heed it would be to heed weakness—which now more than ever, in front of all the proxies, was unfathomable. “Do you want to keep stalling, or do you want to fight?” he said. 

Josh made an enraged sound that was disturbingly akin to one of Seedeater’s growls, and he launched himself at Jeff. His movements were slower and jerkier now, and the primitive creature in Jeff’s mind saw his victory as sharply and clearly as cut crystal. He darted to the side, narrowly avoiding Josh’s haphazard grab for his hoodie, and snapped his elbow back around and into the side of Josh’s face. It stumbled Josh some, but not quite enough, and Jeff was quick to reclaim his balance and push himself into the offensive. It was best to strike while Josh was angry and unfocused.

It was difficult to believe that Josh thought he could be a better leader than Eyeless, when his control was so easily sapped. What was he going to do? Punch the first thing that ticked him off? Impulsivity and irrationality in the face of a challenge was a quality that a leader in their field of work could not possess for long—it was the reason Jeff wasn’t leader.

At least, that was what Jeff used to tell himself. He knew now that he wasn’t leader (or dead) simply because Eyeless was a better man, and far better suited to the job. So for this haughty, wet-behind-the-ears little  _ fuck  _ to challenge that really kind of ticked him the hell off. It was spitting in Eyeless’s face, and it was spitting on Jeff’s decision to support him—

And it was Josh’s downfall, wasn’t it? His impulsivity and irrationality was worthless in a leadership position, and it was worthless in a fight because he couldn’t control it,  _ wouldn’t  _ control it. Jeff’s impulsivity and irrationality, when prodded from its light slumber, was equally worthless as far as leadership was concerned, but in a fight—

Oh, it was brilliant. He had spent years honing his control of it into something crisp and responsive, and utilizing it felt like greeting an old friend. 

He stopped thinking, and planning, and watching, and he let the anger pooling in his stomach wash out into the rest of his body and seize control of his movements. It drove him to leap at Josh again, without sparing either of them the time to refocus. Josh’s hands came up to guard his face—logical, since that seemed to be where Jeff was aiming. 

Unfortunate, because Jeff had abandoned logic. He hitched his knee up once he was close to Josh, miming a kick. Josh’s hands jerked down to defend himself, his eyes following them, and Jeff hooked his fingers around the back of Josh’s head. He brought his knee the rest of the way up at the same time he pushed Josh’s head down, and he felt his kneecap meet Josh’s bloodied nose with a dull crushing sound. 

Josh howled something wordless and feral, clawing futilely towards Jeff’s stomach as he arched away. Sweeping his uninjured foot out low to the ground, Jeff hooked his sneaker behind Josh’s ankle and pulled. The movement sent Josh flailing backwards, arms pinwheeling for balance, and one of his fists clipped Jeff’s nose on the way down. Although it was a petty hurt, it stoked Jeff’s rage like paper going up in a fire—quick and fierce.

Jeff followed him down, throwing a leg over his stomach to straddle him and angling a punch at his abused nose. It looked vaguely like a squashed hamburger patty at this point, and Jeff was eager to make it look even worse. Before he got the chance to, however, Josh seemed to scramble out of his defensive mode. He lifted one of his own fists, and rather than block his face with it, he sent it to crack against the side of Jeff’s jaw.

Jeff’s teeth click together, and he felt them slice the side of his tongue and his cheek with a hard, jamming pain. Blood sluiced into his mouth, hot and metallic, and he snarled. Not about to let the opening Josh’s punch had left him go to waste, Jeff struck his nose again—once, twice,  _ pop pop.  _ Josh struggled to roll them over, or to get back onto his feet, but he couldn’t do it without his arms, which Jeff was diligently keeping occupied.

It was too easy. Of course, now it was a waiting game. How long would it take for Josh to yield, if Jeff could keep him in this position? How long would Jeff be able to keep him in this position? He couldn’t choke Josh out, because Josh’s arms were longer. The second he locked his hands around Josh’s throat, Josh’s knuckles, relieved of their defense, would be intimately greeting his face. Knocking Josh out seemed like overkill, and Jeff wasn’t certain he could do it, anyway. 

Well, there wasn’t any harm in trying. Only, how had Eyeless said to do it? That way had been the coolest, and Jeff was totally about being cool. 

_ “Put two of your fingers out,” Eyeless said. He was perched on the porch railing, watching Jeff with undisguised disdain. Jeff hated him. “Well? Are you gonna do it or not? I don’t have all day, and Slender said I didn’t have to teach you if you wouldn’t listen.” _

_ “I  _ am  _ doing it,” Jeff said. He wasn’t, but how was Eyeless gonna know that? _

_ “You’re not.” _

_ “How do you know? It’s not like you can see.” _

_ “Oh, how original.” Eyeless sighed, toying with sleeves of his sweater. “Hardee har har, the blind guy can’t see, big fuckin’ whoop. Newsflash, brainiac: I can still hear, and I didn’t hear your hands moving. Move them.” _

_ Jeff rolled his eyes and melodramatically lifted his hand, sticking two fingers out like Eyeless had told him to. “There. Happy? Are you sure you’re not teaching me to finger somebody?” _

_ “Utterly and completely sure,” Eyeless said, his voice dry. He paused, as though considering something, then added, “You know, the urge to remark: ‘what are you, twelve?’ is almost overpowering, until I remember that you are, literally, twelve.” _

_ “I’m  _ thirteen _ , you dick.” _

_ “And what a difference that makes. Anyway, all you do is jab in the throat with those fingers. Feel the hollow in between your collarbones? That’s where your pharynx is. Hit somebody there and it should knock them out—at the least, it’ll gag them, and at most, it’ll kill them.” _

_ “Oh, really?” Jeff asked, his eyes brightening. “Let me practice on you.” _

_ “I don’t have a pharynx. Or—well, not one close enough to the surface of my skin for you to hit.” _

_ “Of  _ course _ you don’t. C’mon, you’re just scared.” _

_ “No, really,” Eyeless said. His voice got no more empathetic, in spite of his words, but he did to turn his head to aim the black, soulless holes in his face directly at Jeff. “A pharynx is a weakness, and I was designed to have as few of those as possible.” _

_ Despite his determination to brush Eyeless off, to hate him, and to beat him, Jeff found himself scared. It infuriated him. He opened his mouth to speak again, but Eyeless stopped him.  _

_ “You can find that out for yourself someday, but I’m not in the mood for a fight today. ‘kay? Great. Tell Slender I did my job.” _

_ He strode back inside, and Jeff stared as his back, and a poisonous sludge of anger, loathing, and fear bubbled in his stomach.  _ I’ll show you,  _ he thought, balling his fists. _

_ So watch this, Eyeless,  _ Jeff thought, grinning in spite of himself at the memory. Oh, how he had hated Eyeless—and what a little arrogant prick he’d been. 

Sticking his index and middle finger out, Jeff drew his hand back and jabbed it forward when he had busied Josh’s fists with beating his other hand away. He felt the tips of his fingers drive into the hollow between Josh’s collarbones, and he felt the fragile crumpling of his pharynx as they did so. He didn’t press long, because he didn’t want to kill the guy, but he must have done something right, because Josh made a retching, shocked sound.

Jerking his hand away—and balling it into a fist aimed at Josh’s bloodied nose, just in case—Jeff watched the effects of his efforts warily. Josh’s face was blanched, blood smeared from his nose to his chin, and his breath stuttered uneasily in his chest. Jeff could hear his throat clicking as he swallowed, and his eyelids fluttered for several seconds before finally prying themselves open. 

Disappointed—but not too much so, because he knew he couldn’t do a throat-jab as well as Eyeless—Jeff prepared to strike Josh again. He’d have to take a different tactic, because this one clearly wasn’t working quickly enough. Before he has the chance to do so, though, Josh raised his hands to shield his face, and he didn’t lash out.

“Are you done?” Jeff asked, genuinely curious. Josh seemed like the kind of guy who would keep fighting until he was physically unable to continue. Stopping now seemed counterintuitive to his efforts. 

But then, Jeff had never been much good at judging others’ personalities. 

Josh took a raspy breath, and his eyes glittered with malice as he opened his mouth to speak—glittered with malice, and, vaguely, relief. 

_ Oh,  _ Jeff thought, stunned by his sudden realization.  _ I understand.  _

Josh was like him. The correlation was strikingly obvious, in hindsight. They were both influential when it came to their friends, both frighteningly aggressive when it came to challenges, and both terrified of strength and a lack of it. So could that possibly mean that Josh was only threatening Eyeless out of fear? That he didn’t  _ want  _ to be a leader, but thought it was necessary?

Kids these days, man. Jeff couldn’t blame him, though—not without being a hypocrite.

“Yeah,” Jeff said, sighing. “You’re done.”

Josh turned his head, spit blood, and didn’t argue. There was anger in every line of his body, but it was staunchly controlled, and Jeff almost pitied him. It had to suck, losing a battle like this in front of everyone. It would, undoubtedly, lead to several other fights in the coming weeks. That was the price of Josh’s loss—

And it would be the price of Jeff’s, when he fought Eyeless. 

Something about that made Jeff like Josh a little more. He rose to his feet, and, after a moment of contemplation—it could make him look weak, after all—he offered Josh a hand up. “Good fight,” he said, inclining his head. 

Josh looked surprised, and Jeff supposed that was to be expected. Jeff wasn’t known for his noble, chivalrous nature. But, well, this little prick reminded Jeff of himself when he was just a snot-nosed, bloody brat.

Was this how Eyeless had felt, dealing with Jeff when he’d first come to the Mansion? Dealing with his constant, foolish arguments and insults and challenges? With his constant mistrust and hate? With all of that, how had he still managed to put forth the effort to teach Jeff, to reassure him—to try to be his  _ friend?  _

God, he fuckin’ loved Eyeless.

“Fuck off,” Josh said, ignoring Jeff’s hand and clambering unsteadily to his feet. His breathing still didn’t sound quite right, and his voice was nasally, but Jeff thought he’d be fine. “This isn’t the last time I’m going to fight you.”

“I know,” Jeff said, grinning. “I’ll look forward to the next time, but for now you should hobble off to the infirmary. I’ve still got business.”

Josh made a twisted, guttural sound, but he shoved his way back into the crowd. The other proxies were murmuring, shifting—uneasy. That was one fight over, and it was to the end they expected, Jeff supposed. The next fight would not be as comfortably standard. He was someone they looked up to. As strange as that seemed, Jeff knew it was true. He had been here longer than most of them, he was a part of Slender’s inner circle, and he had helped free them from the EMFP. 

But so had Eyeless. Eyeless—patient, clever, practical Eyeless—was also someone the others admired. To pit them against each other was something that must have seemed unfathomable, or at least uncomfortable, to most of the proxies, however necessary it was. The atmosphere in the room had shifted from excitement and expectancy into something heavier and shakier.

Swallowing hard, Jeff turned to face the crowd and lifted his chin. The looks on Toby’s and BEN’s faces, where they hovered near the back of the room, had darkened considerably. To Jeff’s relief, though, their expressions smoothed out when Hoodie appeared next to them and murmured something into their ears, nodding towards Jeff. Using that for courage, Jeff turned to look at Eyeless.

Then, though it sickened him, he stepped forward and made his challenge. It was simple, and it was quick—there was no need for posturing or insulting, not in the least because Jeff simply couldn’t make himself do that to his best friend. Instead, he took a deep breath, and he simply said—

“Eyeless.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a giant, holy crap i'm sorry


	47. In Which There is Yet More Fighting Because Obviously That’s the Only Reasonable Way to Settle Things

The name felt wrong, rolling hatefully off of his tongue. It hadn’t sounded like that—like brittle, broken glass between his teeth—for years. It had come to mean something sweeter, something calmer, and Jeff loathed to twist it around now. But twist it he did, because that was what was demanded of him, and he could not shirk this duty and still think of himself as a leader. He had to make everyone else feel safe. He had to make Eyeless seem strong for them, and for himself.

If that meant looking weak—

Well, then, just this once. 

“Jeff.” Eyeless stepped out of the crowd, and the anxious murmurs behind him quieted. “Don’t you want a break?”

“Don’t you want to stop patronizing me?” Jeff said. Scowling, he sucked the blood from the cut in his mouth away from his teeth, and he spat it onto the tile in front of Eyeless’s sneakers. “If you’re scared, just say so. I’ll let you go without a fight, if that’s what you want.”

Eyeless scoffed, beginning to circle around Jeff. He wouldn’t attack him from behind, Jeff knew—that would look underhanded and weak to their audience. Even so, it was unnerving to have Eyeless leave his line of sight. He could no more keep his eyes on Eyeless than Eyeless could attack him now, however, since that would make him appear apprehensive. (Which he was—but nobody needed to know that.)

“Since when have you ever been willing to walk away from a fight, kid?” Eyeless said. “Have you finally started to mellow out?”

“You wish, old man,” Jeff said, something akin to relief flooding his chest as Eyeless spoke. It almost felt like their usual banter, and that was infinitely comforting. It seemed to confirm that Eyeless wouldn’t hurt him, and he wouldn’t hurt Eyeless. This was all just a big game.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Eyeless asked. He was prowling back into Jeff’s sight—god, he was terrifying, even when he was openly offering Jeff an out. 

Jeff had always known that Eyeless could be dangerous, of course, but it had been some time since he’d been actively threatened by the same sleek, predatory movements Eyeless used against rebellious proxies or future victims. The way he walked, the way he held himself—they were all stark reminders that Eyeless was entirely  _ other _ . 

He had not merely been born with a chance array of genetics, he had been  _ designed,  _ and he had been designed for the express purpose of fighting, and winning, and killing. Of course, Eyeless had used that design for so much more, and Jeff was endlessly proud of him for that, but, well—

He was also rapidly remembering why his younger self had admitted defeat to Eyeless so soon into their first—and only—real fight. 

“Like I could just tap out,” Jeff said, rolling his eyes. Eyeless had to have already known they couldn’t stop now, not with everyone’s eyes on them, but the fact that he even gave Jeff the option to back out made him feel that much more confidence about the fight. “Quit stalling. I’m tired and I’m hungry, so let’s get this over with.”

“If that’s what you want,” Eyeless said, shrugging off his hoodie. Jeff saw the flash of metal—scalpels and knives and needles—strapped to the inside of it as it was unzipped, and he heard it clink sharply as Eyeless threw it off to the side. “Can’t do anything about the teeth, unfortunately—but I promise not to bite.”

Jeff could imagine the leering grin that he heard in Eyeless’s voice, a black tongue swiping over violently sharp dagger-teeth underneath the mask. He mourned the person Eyeless ever did decide to bite. He didn’t have time to mourn them for long, though, because Eyeless moved into a fluid, practiced fighting stance, and Jeff knew from experience that he wouldn’t wait around for his opponent to be ready. 

Jeff shifted into his own stance, cautiously depositing his weight onto the balls of his feet. Most of the injuries he had sustained from his fight with Josh were minor. He was tired, his nose stung, his mouth was still bleeding, and his throat still ached, but those were all tolerable things. His ankle, however, was another story. 

While it had been content to tolerate his abuse of it during his fight with Josh, the sudden absence of an actual, immediate threat left it howling obscenities at him. It, too, seemed to understand that Eyeless wouldn’t hurt him, and so it was utterly confident about its desire to  _ not fight.  _ It was such a stupid, stupid ankle. 

It hurt like a bitch, though. It would be easy to roll if he wasn’t careful, and he shuddered to think of the agony that rolling it would cause. The bullet, still lodged snugly in the muscles there, would no doubt be jarred. If he was truly unlucky, it might move further towards his bones. With that in mind, Jeff decided that he would just have to be very, very careful. 

Unfortunately, Eyeless was not aware of that decision, nor did he allow Jeff time to make any covert gestures that would inform him of it. As soon as Jeff had settled into a fighting position, Eyeless sprang at him, unfairly fast. Jeff braced himself—a reaction that he fell back upon because his fight with Josh told him that his opponent would be using brute force to knock him over. Logically, he knew that that wasn’t what Eyeless would do, but his body was ill-prepared to react to Eyeless’s attacks so soon after defending itself against Josh.

His split-second freeze allowed Eyeless enough time to sweep Jeff’s feet out from under him with a low roundhouse kick. Jeff’s shoulders hit the ground first, his breath slammed from his lungs, and Eyeless didn’t allow him the time to regain it. He leaned down, seizing the collar of Jeff’s shirt in his hand, and hauled him up with a little  _ too  _ much enthusiasm. 

“You  _ shit,”  _ Jeff said, gasping for breath. Eyeless didn’t respond, but Jeff would like to think that he grinned behind his stupid, expressionless mask. 

Jeff aimed a kick at Eyeless’s crotch, but Eyeless wasn’t an idiot—he’d seen Jeff do the same thing to Josh, and he dropped Jeff while his foot was in the air. Staggering when he hit the ground, Jeff struggled to get both feet under himself without twisting his ankle. Then, rather than attempt any move that could have salvaged his dignity, Jeff gathered himself into a crouch and leapt into Eyeless’s legs. 

Eyeless, apparently surprised by the stupidity of Jeff’s move—ha, served him right—tripped over Jeff’s body and sprawled across him. Jeff wrapped his arms around Eyeless’s ankles before he could pull them back underneath himself, and Eyeless promptly whirled around and popped him the nose. It stung, but it wasn’t nearly as hard as he knew Eyeless could hit. There was blood on Jeff’s nose, and blood on Eyeless’s hand—

But it wasn’t Jeff’s blood, and they both knew it. It was Eyeless’s, Jeff realized, and it was leaking from a series of cuts between his knuckles—bitten there, he assumed, for the sole purpose of leaving blood where Eyeless wanted it to seem like Jeff was bleeding. Clever bastard. Clever, self-sacrificing bastard.

When had he even managed to find the time to bite himself with his mask on, anyway?

What a smart fuckin’ jerk.

Eyeless kicked at him, and Jeff released his legs, lest one of Eyeless’s worn-down blue sneakers became far too intimate with his face. They both jumped to their feet, and Jeff scrambled to put distance between the two of them. Eyeless refused to let him. As soon as he had regained his balance, he grabbed Jeff’s arm and pulled, flinging him towards the far wall. Jeff stumbled, struggling for his equilibrium as Eyeless shook himself off and advanced again. 

He had to consciously remind himself that he wanted Eyeless to win, because almost everything in him howled for him to fight harder, to get angrier, to be bloodier. But he had not been hurt—his nose had already quit throbbing, and although his back felt bruised, it was easy to ignore. Eyeless was being as careful and meticulous in this fight as he ever had been in his paperwork, or in his social interactions, and that soothed Jeff’s fighting temper some. As difficult as it was to allow himself to appear weak, to lose, in front of everyone—

It was easier, because this was Eyeless.

Eyeless caught him, fingers curling into his shirt, and Jeff was shoved against the wall in a move that he supposed looked harsh, but felt anything but. “You can always give up, you know,” Eyeless said, and for a single second, Jeff almost believed that he could. 

Wouldn’t it be a great relief, to just—just  _ give up  _ like that? To quit trying, without making a big deal of it? To let somebody else control everything for a little while? And if that somebody else was Eyeless, he had absolutely nothing to be afraid of. He knew that.

But not in front of the others. No—that would be impossible. 

“You know I can’t,” he said, driving his nails into Eyeless’s arms. He was under no disillusion that he could pierce the flesh there—a knife had a tricky job cutting Eyeless’s skin, so what good could his nails possibly do?—but it felt good to try. 

“Yeah, I know,” Eyeless said. He shook his head and sighed, adding under his breath, “What am I gonna do with you, Jeffster?”

“Love me, keep me, never leave me?” Jeff suggested, grinning cheekily. 

Eyeless snorted, and then he jerked Jeff away from the wall and shoved him back towards the middle of the room. That should have been fine— _ would  _ have been fine, had Jeff not felt his ankle starting to roll as he stumbled. Rather than let it complete its roll, he let himself trip. Eyeless, accustomed to Jeff’s typical balance, was already nearly on top of him. He had clearly been expecting Jeff to have caught himself and to have been prepared for another round of fake, flashy tussling. 

So what happened next was an unfortunate, avoidable accident. Eyeless misstepped, trying not to trample on any important parts of Jeff’s body, and Jeff’s leg happened to be in a very, very bad position. It would have been fine—uncomfortable, but fine—had it not been his injured leg. But it was, and for one quick, startling second, Eyeless stepped on Jeff’s ankle. 

The pain wasn’t the first thing to register—no, the first thing was the subtle and overwhelmingly  _ wrong  _ sensation of things moving where they weren’t meant to move. He then had just enough time to think  _ ah, shit,  _ before the pain hit him and his world started blurring around the edges.


	48. In Which There’s Pain and Surgery and—Yeah, That’s Pretty Much It

The pain was blinding, sharp, and in the absence of adrenaline, crippling. It hadn’t felt so bad when he’d first been shot, and it hadn’t felt so bad in any of the time since. It almost scared him, the sudden immensity of this pain where there had only been a dull twinge seconds before. 

It was not, however, as bad as being set on fire, and that was something. 

“Jeff? Hey—oh, god, Jeff. What’s wrong? What happened?” Eyeless stepped forward—his voice was stricken, but his face—

His face was a mask, impassive and unconcerned, and senseless fear curdled hot and sour in Jeff’s stomach. He flinched away from Eyeless’s nervous, jerky movements, curling his body around his ankle, and Eyeless froze. 

“Jeff? Jeff, I’m sorry. You’re hurt, aren’t you? Can I see—no, wait. Can you wait a second, Jeff?” Eyeless paused, waiting for a response that would not be coming, before Jeff heard him spin and face the crowd. “Masky, BEN, come here. Hoodie, Toby—get everyone else out of here. We’re done.”

The proxies, for once, seemed all too willingly to do as they were told. The atmosphere around them was heavy and tense, and Jeff could faintly hear Hoodie’s voice directing them, herding them away from the center of the room. A hand came to rest on the side of his head, startling him back into his own body—which was shuddering and focused entirely on the awful, too-big pain emanating from his leg. 

Jeff struggled to see who was touching him, but his hair was in his eyes, and he couldn’t bear to pry his fingers away from his leg long enough to move it. As though realizing this, the hand on his head shifted, brushing his bangs back so that he could see. Masky—Masky was the one crouched beside him, a hand in his hair. His mask was twisted around to the back of his head, allowing Jeff to see the harsh, worried creases between his brows. 

“Jeff?” BEN’s voice, young and nervous, came from somewhere in front of him. “What’s wrong? Is it your leg?”

Jeff nodded, pressing his face against the cool tile. The pain ebbed in and out, like ocean waves—indeterminable and unyielding. When it faded out for a few seconds, he managed to grit his teeth and say, “The bullet’s—still there—never—”

“Bullet?” Eyeless’s voice was wrenched with stress, and Jeff hated it. It made him feel sick—if Eyeless was scared, then what the hell should he be? “What bullet?”

“Masky says—a little slower, Mask—uh, he says that Jeff was shot getting out of the EMFP compound the first time,” BEN said, watching Masky’s hands carefully as they moved through a series of signs. “It was at a distance, though, and the bullet never exited.”

“Fucking  _ shit,”  _ Eyeless snarled, and Jeff’s eyes snapped to his mask—still utterly emotionless, still utterly disorienting—against his will. “Why does nobody  _ tell me  _ when shit like this happens?”

Jeff shrank further into himself, understanding vaguely, through the fog of pain in his head, that he had done something wrong. “Sorry,” he said, chewing the inside of his cheek into a bloody mess to distract himself from the fiercer pain gnawing at his ankle. “‘m sorry.”

Masky scowled in Eyeless’s direction, smoothing Jeff’s hair back. 

“No, no, Jeff, it’s alright,” Eyeless said, the anger in his voice twisting around into something shaky and consoling. “I should’ve known, I saw you limping, I—”He took a deep breath, shaking his head as though to clear it. “It’s okay. It’s okay, I’m sorry. Let’s focus on fixing you up. Do you think you can handle it if we move you to the infirmary room?”

Jeff’s ankle was sure that no, he absolutely could not handle it, but Jeff forced himself to nod. There was pain medication in the infirmary, after all, and that seemed to be of the paramount importance at the moment. 

“BEN, do you know where we set up the infirmary in this house?” Eyeless asked. BEN nodded, his hands curling into determined fists. “Go and get me a stretcher. They’re in the far closet. If you can’t find them, ask Hoodie. He helped me set the room up earlier.”

“Got it,” BEN said, and he vanished in a blur of nervous green-gold movement. He returned within minutes, and even Jeff had enough mind to be impressed by his speed. Eyeless, however, only nodded briskly.

“Set it beside him, BEN. Masky, you get his head. We’ll move him on three.” Eyeless crouched beside Jeff’s feet. Without offering Jeff the time to protest, they lifted and shifted him onto the stretcher. Jeff would like to think that Eyeless took the utmost care not to jostle his ankle, but some jostling was inevitable, and it sent bolts of pain lacing up and down Jeff’s spine like frightened snakes, coiling and constricting remorselessly. Jeff ground his head against the stretcher board, snarling, and he saw Masky’s face crumple.

_ We’re acting too weak,  _ the ever-helpful voice in the back of his head pointed out.  _ We’re scaring them. We should get up, we should shake it off, like we did before, we’re fine— _

Jeff bit his lip, swallowed the miserable pain-sounds that pressed against the backs of his teeth, and propped himself up on his elbows. “I can walk,” he said, voice cracking. It was a moot point, since he was already on the stretcher, but he felt the need to make it nevertheless. 

Eyeless didn’t even give him the dignity of a response, pushing against his chest until he sagged onto the stretcher again. The thing in the back of Jeff’s mind grumbled, but it yielded, and whatever fight Jeff could’ve summoned left him to leave more room for pain. Masky and Eyeless lifted the stretcher, and he was carried quickly into the new house’s makeshift infirmary.

Eyeless guided Masky to set the stretcher on one of the beds—which, Jeff noticed hazily, looked like unhomely, clinical cots. That must certainly have annoyed Eyeless. It wasn’t anything like the Mansion’s infirmary, where the time and dedication and effort Eyeless had poured into it seeped from every surface, bright and clean and warm. This place was, instead, unnervingly cold and sterile. 

Yet another painful reminder that this wasn’t their home, and this wasn’t where they wanted to be. 

“How’s morphine sound, Jeff?” Eyeless said, rummaging through the blatant disorganization in the back of the room. 

Morphine sounded great, thanks. Jeff offered Eyeless a weakly enthusiastic thumbs-up, running on the assumption that, despite engaging serious-doctor-mode, Eyeless remained intimately attuned to the sounds of visual gestures. Eyeless didn’t disappoint him, and within seconds there was a tourniquet cinched around his arm, an IV stand beside his cot. and a needle taped to his arm. 

“It should start working in a couple of minutes,” Eyeless told him, “but if it doesn’t, let me know, and I can up the dosage.”

Jeff nodded, breathing hard through his nose and willing the minutes to pass a little quicker. When the medication did begin to kick in, however, the effect was immediate and so totally worth the wait. The sharp, jagged crackles of pain that had swamped him began to recede. They were replaced by a dull throb that was, to Jeff’s relief, much more manageable. The absence of severe pain was bliss, and Jeff sighed happily. 

“I’ll take that as a ‘why yes, Eyeless, it is working. You’re so terribly intelligent, how could I live without you?’’” Eyeless said. He shrugged. “Well, simply put, you wouldn’t.”

Jeff beamed at him. Along with smothering his pain, the medication was beginning to smother the hideous turmoil that wanted to writhe around in his brain. It gifted him with a quiet, dizzy sort of contentment that he couldn’t be bothered to fight with. It was reminiscent of how he had felt when he’d woken up in the infirmary after that police chase when he was fourteen, or after he’d shattered his arm falling off that one building on the edge of town, or after his fight with Keith and those other assholes when he was thirteen—albeit, slightly more stable and clear-headed. 

Jeff realized with some absent-minded pleasure that he could think about that without an angry twist rising in his stomach. Nice. 

He also realized that he had been in Eyeless’s infirmary far, far too much.

“Masky,” Eyeless said, moving towards the unpacked boxes in the back of the room and rummaging through them. Masky’s eyes snapped away from the IV stand and towards Eyeless. “We’re going to remove the bullet now. Will you go get Hoodie—I mean, unless you want to help during the surgery?”

Masky glanced at the tools Eyeless was setting out on the counter—medical-grade, not weapons-grade, immaculately clean—and grimaced. His scent must have changed, because Eyeless nodded knowingly. 

“That’s alright. I understand,” he said. “I think Hoodie should be done settling everyone else down, anyway. BEN, you can go—thanks for the help.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” BEN said, nodding furiously. “But I could help here, too, Eyeless, if you want.”

“Not this time,” Eyeless said. “If you want to learn how to help for next time, I’ll teach you, but I’d rather not just throw you into it. Masky and Hoodie have a few years’ experience, you know?”

“I guess that makes sense. Good luck, then—get to feeling better, right, Jeff? I’ll see you later,” BEN said, ducking out of the room and into the hallway.

Eyeless bustled around the room, setting up complicated-looking machinery around Jeff’s cot and running it through series of tests, typing things on his laptop as he did. When he was in the middle of testing a heart monitor (at least, Jeff thought that was what it was—he wasn’t totally sure) Masky and Hoodie slipped back into the room. 

“Hey, Jeff,” Hoodie said, looking him over. “How are you?”

Jeff nodded happily at him. 

“Awesome. How many drugs did you give him, Eye?”

“Enough,” Eyeless said, handing him a clipboard. “Prep the general anesthesia, please. Masky, if you’re going to stay until we actually start the surgery, could you sanitize the equipment over there?”

Both of them moved off, quick and efficient, and within twenty minutes the room was ready. Masky set out a neat, straight line of scalpels and sutures and clamps, and Jeff’s stomach flipped at the idea of those things around—inside—his ankle. His sudden apprehension must have shown on his face, because Masky’s hands moved through a series of fluid movements that Jeff’s fumbling, drug-addled knowledge of sign language told him meant something like,  _ You’re doing great. This is Eyeless, remember? You’ll be totally fine. _

“You ready, Jeff?” Hoodie asked, stepping up to the side of his cot. There was another IV bag in his hand, labeled with a bright yellow sticker, and Jeff swallowed hard. “You know how this works, right?”

Unfortunately, he did. “Yeah,” he said, nodding reluctantly.

“Cool. We’ll start the IV now, and we’ll give you the gas mask in a couple of minutes.” When Jeff agreed, Hoodie swapped his IV bags and then trundled off to do more undoubtedly impeccable Hoodie-work. Masky stayed beside him, signing—well, something. Jeff blinked hazily at the movements of his hands and decided that it was comforting, probably. 

As promised, Hoodie returned to hook him up to the gas mask after a few minutes had passed. “Deep breaths,” he reminded, as he settled the mask over Jeff’s mouth and nose. The air smelled dry and ordinary, and for the first few seconds he felt completely fine—drugged and dizzy and strange, but fine. Then sleepiness settled along his thinking with disorientating rapidity. 

The last thing he remembered was Eyeless joining Masky and Hoodie beside his bed. “You can go now, Mask,” he said. “Thanks for the help.”

Masky’s hands came up, signing something that Jeff was fucked to try and understand. Luckily, Eyeless was at a similar disadvantage—the mute cannot say what the blind cannot see, after all—so Hoodie translated. 

“He says he’d like to stay. He doesn’t want to do anything, but he’d like to watch—for a little while, anyway, if it’s okay with you,” Hoodie said. “He doesn’t want to be in the way.”

Although Eyeless’s face was still covered by his mask, Jeff could almost sense the beaming smile he directed towards Masky. “Of course you can stay,” Eyeless said, his voice drenched with a soppy sort of pride. “Of course. It’s not problem at all.”

Then Jeff’s world disappeared, and he decided that that wasn’t a bad last memory to have. The room didn’t darken, per se, because his eyes were always open. It faded out instead, into something indistinct and unrecognizable, and then he was gone.


	49. In Which Jeff Wakes Up a Few Times

He woke up in strange, fuzzy increments. He saw snippets of movement and activity around him—they faded out almost as quickly as they faded in, inconsequential and confusing. When he awoke enough to remember these moments of lucidity, he awoke enough to realize that he didn’t  _ want  _ to be awake. Pain was a gnawing creature, coiling around his ankle and snaking up his spine. He must have made some kind of sound (although it couldn’t have been coherent at all), because when he woke up again, it didn’t hurt nearly as much. 

Even so, he couldn’t find enough determination to propel himself back into true consciousness. He watched the world, instead, through a hazy, sleepy lenses, blurring in and out. Eyeless was there almost constantly—fiddling with his IV, talking on the phone, sitting in the hard plastic chair beside his cot. Others came and went—BEN, Masky, Hoodie, Toby. Even, Jeff noticed with a painful twinge somewhere in his chest, Liu made an appearance. 

Noticing that made him feel sickeningly warm and happy, but it also highlighted the one person who  _ wasn’t _ there. Jack’s absence was an unwelcome, gaping hole in his stomach, and it hurt to think about. Was he alright? When would he come back? Jeff hadn’t even said goodbye, what if he…?

Biting his tongue, Jeff tried to swallow those thoughts, but they were enough to sting him back into reality. Eyeless, predictably, knew as soon as he was  _ awake- _ awake, and greeted him quite kindly with a penlight to the eyes. “Morning, asshole.”

“What  _ even  _ is the point of that? You can’t see my pupils, you prick,” Jeff said. At least, that was what he tried to say—it came out butchered and garbled but, apparently, understandable. 

“I can hear your pupils,” Eyeless said matter-of-factly, clicking the light off and hooking it back onto his shirt collar. 

“No.”

“Mm-hm. How are you feeling?”

“My eyes hurt.”

“Besides that, you big baby. How’s your ankle? Do you need more medication?”

Jeff focused on his ankle for a moment. It ached, deep and low, but it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be ignored. It certainly wasn’t anything that warranted any more drugs. If Jeff’s sense of self—or lack thereof—was correct, then there were plenty of those already in his system. “‘m fine,” he said. “Tired.”

“I bet. You were out for five hours.” Eyeless moved back, slouching into his chair again.

“That’s a long time, isn’t it?” Jeff said, trying to wrap his fuzz-addled brain around the concept of time. “What time ‘s it now?”

“I dunno, you douche. There’s a clock on the wall over there.”

“Oh.” Jeff glanced at the clock, struggling to put a meaning to numbers. “Two? In the morning?”

“Sure,” Eyeless said, shrugging. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

“‘cause I’ve been watching your trouble-making ass. I wanted to make sure you woke up alright. Now that you have, though, you should go back to sleep. It’s too early to be up.”

Jeff couldn’t find it in him to protest that, although it seemed like it should. “‘kay,” he said, nodding. He gestured vaguely to the IV. “Can you take this out? It’s hard to sleep with.”

“I could, but it’s got your drugs in it. If you’re willing to downgrade to shots already, though, be my guest. I don’t have any qualms about jabbing you with sharp needles every four hours. That means you’ll be up again at five in the morning, though.”

Jeff frowned. “Maybe I can wait until tomorrow.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. Is the tape bothering you?”

Jeff shook his head and pulled his thin, clinical sheets up to his chin, working carefully around his IV. “I wish we had our stuff back.”

“Our stuff?”

“Yeah, our stuff for here.”

“For the infirmary?”

“Yeah.” 

“Me too. Everything seems like it’s in the wrong place, and it smells like a stupid fucking hospital. It’s better than nothing, though, I guess—anyway, shut up. You’re supposed to be sleeping more.”

“You too. You should sleep too,” Jeff said. 

“I will,” Eyeless said. “I just have to do a few more things.”

Something told Jeff that that was a blatant lie, and that he should be outraged. The fading effects of the anaesthesia and the pleasant, pain-blurring drugs in his system convinced him that it was okay, though, and that Eyeless was telling the truth so he should just go to sleep already. 

He must have done so, although he couldn’t remember it. When he realized that he was awake again, it was noisy. It wasn’t light outside—there were no windows in this shitty excuse for an infirmary—but the tell-tale sounds of the house waking up around him were present. Feet traipsing up and down the stairs, the rise and fall of voices, doors slamming—it sounded like home.

It wasn’t, though. 

Dragging himself back through layers of sleep on a wave of bitterness, Jeff struggled to sit. He glanced around the room and found that, incredibly, Eyeless was nowhere to be found. In fact, there was no one in the room with him. Doing his best not to feel neglected (which he  _ was,  _ some petty, bitchy part of himself insisted—why would they leave him all alone after he had  _ surgery,  _ come on), Jeff stretched what parts of himself he could and glowered at the others.

The IV was still taped to his arm, and his ankle still throbbed, but he was doing alright, he decided. Throwing back his sheets, he admired the new style of his ankle. It was swathed in bandages and encased by a splint. Curious, Jeff tried to move his foot. It stung, vaguely, and he couldn’t move it far. 

The door to the room swung open, startling Jeff from his thoughts and making his fingers twitch for the knife he didn’t have. Upon seeing that it was Masky who was edging his way inside, though, he relaxed. “Morning,” he said. 

Masky jumped like he’d been shot, whirling around, and Jeff immediately snapped his mouth shut. It was some comfort that Masky didn’t look utterly terrified, only surprised.

Deciding to try again, Jeff said, voice quiet, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

His shoulders sagging, Masky waved him off and came to sit in the chair next to his bed.

There was a plate of pancakes in his hand, and he slid it to sit on the bedside table.  _ No, I’m sorry. I’m just jumpy,  _ he signed.  _ I wasn’t expecting you to be up so early. Do you want something to eat? _

“No thanks.” A quick check-in with his stomach confirmed that no, he wasn’t hungry. He should be, he knew, but he’d never been much good at eating in infirmaries. “Not that you’re not way better, but where’s Eyeless?”

_ He’s doing stuff.  _ Masky shrugged, and something twisted uncertainty in Jeff’s gut. Maybe it was nothing. Masky didn’t like answering questions, anyway, but—

“What kind of stuff?”

Averting his eyes, Masky stabbed a piece of his pancake and jammed it into his mouth. 

“Sorry,” Jeff said. “I don’t mean to bother you, I just—nevermind. Let’s talk about something else.” He floundered for a safe question, one that wouldn’t make Masky feel whatever the fuck he usually felt when answers were demanded of him. “Uh—nice weather we’re having?”

Masky cracked a smile, and accomplishment welled happily in Jeff’s chest.  _ What is this? Small talk?  _ Masky signed.  _ Disgusting. _

“Well, then,” Jeff said, miming offense. “What do you want to talk about?”

_ That depends. How do you feel about puns? _

Jeff groaned, and Masky beamed—for a second, Jeff thought he could glimpse the real sadistic beast that Masky kept so well in hand.

_ How do you know if something is a dad joke? _

“Ughhh—I don’t want to know. It’s going to be stupid.”

_ It’ll be apparent. _

“I have never wished that I could close my eyes more than now.” Jeff folded his forearm across his eyes, and Masky poked him in the cheek. Poke. Poke. Poke-poke-poke. 

“Mask, you’re supposed to be taking care of Jeff, not tormenting him.”

Masky whipped around, a delighted grin on his face—he didn’t jump, this time. Whether that was because he was expecting people to come in, or because it was Hoodie who came in, was up for debate—

Ha. Yeah, sure it was.

Unfortunately, Masky’s glee was short-lived. His face fell as soon as his eyes locked onto Hoodie, and Jeff saw why. There was blood on Hoodie’s sleeves, and on the knees of his jeans, dark and drying. Whose blood? Had there been another fight? Had someone been hurt?

Where was Eyeless?

“Hey, what’s with those looks?” Hoodie said, raising an eyebrow at Jeff and slinging his arm around Masky’s shoulders. “You’re not scared of blood, huh, Mask? Not my brave guy?”

“That depends on who it belongs to,” Jeff answered for them, trying to cram the nerves out of his voice—he’d like to think that he succeeded, but Hoodie had known him a while. Still, the look of sympathy that flashed briefly across his face must have been because of Jeff’s miserable, injured state. 

It definitely wasn’t because he thought Jeff was  _ worried,  _ of all things. Certainly not. 

“Not to anybody important,” Hoodie said. Masky and Jeff exhaled twin sighs of relief, their shoulders drooping. 

Had Hoodie had a job last night? He wasn’t one of the proxies who  _ needed  _ to have jobs, strictly speaking, but maybe Slender had scheduled him some anyway. It seemed superfluous, but hey, if the last few months have proven anything, it was that Jeff didn’t understand Slender’s motives at all. 

“Anyway, how are you, Jeff? Do you need anything?” Hoodie said. 

Jeff scowled—he could put up with Eyeless babying him, because Eyeless had a hellish mothering instinct, and he could put up with Masky doing it, because  _ Masky— _ but Hoodie? No way. “Don’t coddle me, motherfucker. If I need something I can get it myself.”

Hoodie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, alright, tough guy. I’ll just let Masky take care of you. You wouldn’t upset him, now, would you?”

It sounded like it should have been a threat, but coming off of Hoodie’s tongue it was a matter-of-fact statement. Hoodie trusted him with Masky—his most important, most uncertain thing. Hoodie  _ trusted  _ him. Trusted  _ Jeff.  _

Jeff sniffed—stupid fucking drugs, making him feel weird and warm and fuzzy.

“Oh, come on. Are you gonna cry?” Hoodie said, his eyes widening. “What the hell? I was being serious. It wasn’t an insult.”

Jeff rubbed furiously at the stinging in his eyes—which, without eyelids, was a monumentally unpleasant task. “I know, stupid. I just got something in my eye.”

Hoodie’s face suggested that he didn’t believe that for a second. “Riiight. What do you think about taking the IV out?”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Jeff said, staring accusingly at the tube in the crook of his elbow. 

As Hoodie went about removing the IV and bandaging his arm, Masky sat back down and stuck his tongue out at Jeff.  _ You’re gonna blame the drugs, aren’t you, you big crybaby?  _ he signed.

“Oh, shut up,” Jeff said, glowering at him. “I—”

“Am a big crybaby?” Hoodie offered, sticking a cotton ball onto the spiteful hole in Jeff’s elbow. “Why, Jeff, you’ve come so far. Admitting your problems is the first step to solving them.”

“I—”

“But your problems are really rather unimportant to me as a person.”

Jeff pouted at him. 

“On the bright side, you should only need an injection every four hours from now, and only if your ankle’s really bothering you that badly. If you’re doing well, we can probably start giving you pills by tomorrow. On a scale from one to ten, how would you rank your pain right now?”

“Emotionally, I’m hovering somewhere around an eleven.”

“Cry about it,” Hoodie said, reaching for a clipboard. “Physically?”

Jeff shrugged. “A two? I can’t really feel anything yet.”

“Yeah. Don’t tell Eyeless, but I think maybe he overdid you on the painkillers.” Hoodie jotted something down on his clipboard and set it aside again, moving back to Jeff’s side. “Masky, you checked his stitches this morning, right?”

Masky nodded. 

“You did?” Jeff asked.

_ You were asleep,  _ Masky signed. He reached out, snagged his fingers into the back of Hoodie’s hoodie, and pulled him into his lap. Hoodie went pliantly enough, smirking—asshole that he was—at Jeff as he did.

“Gross,” Jeff said, miming a gag. “PDA.”

“You’re just jealous ‘cause your own boyfriend isn’t here,” Hoodie said. A second later, he yelped and flinched away from Masky, who had evidently pinched him. Good. Bastard. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Jeff said, curling his fingers into his palms and feeling the bite of his nails there. “And it’s not like he wants to be here, anyway.”

_ Hoodie’s insensitive sometimes,  _ Masky signed apologetically.  _ Sorry. _

“Whatever,” Jeff said, huffing and side-eyeing Hoodie. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Sorry,” Hoodie said. He looked appropriately chastened—sheepish, in fact—but Jeff still wanted to feel bitter at him. It wasn’t his fault that Jack was an idiot, or confusing, or gone, but the urge to blame someone for the stupid hurt in his heart was almost overwhelming.

_ I don’t know if it’ll make you feel any better, Jeff, but Jack called this morning,  _ Masky signed.  _ He was asking about you. _

“What? Why?” 

_ He cares about you, you know. His timing was bad, but, well, I guess he had the right motive. I don’t know him well enough to say for sure, but I think he  _ was  _ trying to do right by you. It’s not like he wanted to leave. And, I mean, I can understand wanting to get everything out in the open before you take a risk like the one he’s taking. I regret that it hurt you the way it did, but it doesn’t seem like that was his intention. That’s just a stupid opinion, though—take it with a grain of salt. _

“What? Take relationship advice from the guy with the longest-lasting romantic relationship in our family? Why would I do something as dumb as that?” Jeff said, allowing himself to crack a smile. 

Masky ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck.  _ Thanks, I think.  _

“Damn right,” Hoodie said, lifting his chin proudly. “We’re fuckin’  _ awesome.”  _

Masky elbowed him gently, but there was a tiny grin on his face.  _ Hush, you.  _

“What? It’s true, you know,” Hoodie said, kissing playfully at the fine brown hairs around Masky’s temples. “Maybe we should start doing relationship counseling or something.”

Masky rolled his eyes, looking helplessly at Jeff.  _ This guy,  _ he signed.  _ What are you gonna do?  _

Jeff shrugged, ignoring the vague twinge of longing he felt somewhere under his ribcage, watching the two of them. Stupid Jack, making him feel this way. “So what did you tell him?” Jeff asked. “Jack? When he called?”

I  _ didn’t tell him anything,  _ Masky signed.  _ Eyeless was the one who talked to him.  _

“Whether it was a conversation or verbal double homicide is questionable,” Hoodie added, leaning back against Masky’s chest. “They, uh—Eyeless, anyway, didn’t sound very happy.”

Jeff groaned, reaching up to rub his temples. Of course they weren’t happy. Why would things have been that simple? “Why not?”

“I think it had something to do with the fact that Eyeless broke your ankle, but you know, I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure.”

“He didn’t break my ankle,” Jeff said, looking up sharply. “It was the bullet.”

“Correction: the bullet  _ fractured  _ your ankle, and Eyeless broke it,” Hoodie said.  

“It wasn’t his fault, though. I didn’t tell him about it, and I was the one who tripped—”

“Yeah, you try telling him that,” Hoodie said, his expression souring. He tore his eyes from Jeff’s and picked up one of Masky’s hands, fiddling absently with his fingers. “You know how he gets.”

“What do you mean? He’s not blaming himself for this, is he?”

Hoodie scowled. “Of course he is, and good luck trying to get him to do anything different. God. It’s like he  _ wants  _ to be upset all the time.”

Jeff sighs heavily. “I take it you already tried to talk to him?”

_ “Tried  _ being the key word.”

“I’ll talk with him,” Jeff said. 

Hoodie’s shoulders relaxed, as though some unspoken, unconscious weight had been lifted from them. “That would be good.”

“Anyway, you guys don’t have to stay and babysit me. Just give me my phone and I’ll be fine,” Jeff said. “I’m sure you have better things to be doing.”

“Eh.” Hoodie shrugged. “Not really. It’s kind of a hellhole out there, if you know what I mean.”

“More so than usual?” Jeff asked, curiosity piqued. Was that why Eyeless was gone? Was he managing to wrangle the masses without Jeff’s utterly amazing and totally necessary assistance?

“Yeah. You could say that.” Hoodie plucked at his sleeves and dried blood flaked to the floor. “They’re all idiots.”

Masky leaned up to pepper kisses along the tightening line of Hoodie’s jaw.  _ And I’m sure you handled them very well. _

“Of course,” Hoodie scoffed, but his eyes flicked to the ground. “Enough about them, though. What about us? How are we handling things? I mean, I won’t question Slender, but you’ve never had a problem with doing that, Jeff. Is there, like—a plan?”

Jeff spread his hands helplessly. “You know as much as I do. I’ve been unconscious.”

“You mean you don’t just dream about all the stupid, conniving ways you could go behind Slender’s back while you’re out?”

“You know, now that you mention it—no.”

“So I guess that’s another thing for you to talk to Eyeless about. Not that—I mean, if there was a plan, I wouldn’t participate. You know, unless I was tricked. Or I had to stop somebody from doing something stupid. Both of which are regular occurrences, actually,” Hoodie said.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“No, you won’t.” The door swung open, cracking against the opposite wall with the force of its swing and sending Masky flinching hard into Hoodie’s back. Eyeless strode in with a palpable air of irritation, his fists balled at his sides. Blood stuck, thick and wet, on his clothes. “And if I hear any of you talking about some kind of shitty plan like that again I’ll make you regret it.”

The three of them stared at him, eyes wide—it wasn’t uncommon for Eyeless to snap at people if he was really stressed out, but—but they weren’t just  _ people.  _ They were his friends. Right? And whose blood was on his clothes? There was too much of it for it to all be his and for him to remain functioning, but if the blood on Hoodie’s jacket was from a job last night, then—

Why was there blood on Eyeless?

It was Hoodie who overcame his surprise first, nodding uncertainly and saying, “Yeah, okay. Sorry.”

“Whatever,” Eyeless said. “How’s Jeff?”

“I’m good,” Jeff said quickly. 

Eyeless flung open the cabinets in the back of the room, rifling through them with none of his usual patience. “Great.” His voice didn’t sound like he thought it was very great. “Where are the bandages, Hoodie?”

Hoodie sprang out of Masky’s lap, joining Eyeless next to the cabinets. “They were here. Mask might have moved them, though.” 

Although Hoodie was careful not to frame it as a question, and although his tone didn’t make it an accusation, Masky shrank into his chair with a look akin to a kicked dog’s.  _ I didn’t,  _ he signed.  _ I don’t—I don’t think so, anyway.  _

“Did you take them with you when you went to check on Josh?” Hoodie asked Eyeless.

“Josh?” Jeff said. “Why’d you have to check on Josh?”

“Doesn’t matter, and no, Hood, I didn’t take them. I didn’t really need to, did I?” Eyeless said. He reached under his mask and rubbed his temples, his shoulders a stiff line. “I need those bandages now.”

“Maybe there are some in the storage room. I don’t think BEN and Toby have finished unpacking the boxes yet. Masky, come on. We’ll go look for them.” Hoodie moved towards the door, stretching his hand out to take Masky’s and tug him along. The door closed behind them with a quiet click, and Jeff envied their retreat. Being stuck alone in a room with Eyeless in this mood wasn’t his idea of a good time. 

While it opened up a good opportunity to talk, Jeff was in no place to bolt if their conversation took a turn for the worse, and with Eyeless in this state that was more than likely to happen. So he kept his mouth shut about Jack, and about the mysterious blood on Eyeless’s clothes, and about Slender. 

Eyeless, however, didn’t seem to be content with silence. He started pacing at the back of the room, his sneakers squeaking angrily against the tile, and Jeff felt his heart rise into his throat. Pacing was yet another thing Eyeless rarely partook in, and when he opened his mouth to speak, Jeff shrank into his thin sheets as though they could protect him. 

This was going to be just great. Just fucking great. 


	50. In Which Jeff Has a Lot of Conversations, Some of Which are Inevitably Better Than Others

“Jack called earlier,” Eyeless said.

“Yeah? How is he?” Jeff asked. Eyeless’s voice was just a decibel too loud and a sliver too annoyed for Jeff’s comfort, and he was entirely sure that this conversation wouldn’t be going the way he wanted it to go—not if what Hoodie had said about Eyeless’s and Jack’s earlier conversation had held any truth. 

“Great,” Eyeless said, his hands tightening at his sides. “Just great.”

“That’s, uh.” Jeff swallowed. What did Eyeless want him to say? What  _ could  _ he say? “That’s good, right?”

“Yeah. Sure. It’s fan-fucking-tastic.”

“What did he want?” 

“Oh, I dunno.” Jeff couldn’t see Eyeless’s expression through his mask, but he would have bet a kidney or two that Eyeless was scowling. “To check on you. To hear that I’d broken your ankle. To let me know quite exactly what he thought of me as a leader, as a friend, as a person. Fun stuff.”

Jeff plucked nervously at the bandage on his elbow. “Aw, jeez. I’m sorry. That must’ve—that’s not—I’m sorry, Eye. I should’ve talked to him.”

“It’s not like it would’ve mattered,” Eyeless said. “The story’s the same, no matter how you tell it. He was always going to hate me once he started liking you.”

Jeff flinched. Hurt was sharp in his chest, but anger was rising beneath it, hot and confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that as soon as he—as soon and you and him—fucking hell, you know what it means. I mean, I don’t give a shit, but—”

“Eyeless, I don’t understand. What the hell are you talking about?” 

“Fuck, I’m not gonna draw it out for you. You’re not five. And I don’t care, anyway, so why don’t you just forget it?” The rasp of Eyeless’s heavy breathing told Jeff that he did, in fact, care very, very much, and that forgetting it would be a horrible mistake. “He said he’d call you back after lunch.”

“Did you have my—”

“Here.” Eyeless pulled a phone out of his pocket and tossed it into Jeff’s lap, his pacing across the back of the room unfaltered as he did so. “Answer him when he calls or he’ll be at my throat again, and I’ve got enough to deal with without placating him all afternoon.”

“Okay.” Jeff bit his tongue, fighting back the questions that crawled into mouth. What was Eyeless so busy with? Why were people hurt? Why was there blood on his hoodie? Why was there blood on Hoodie’s hoodie? Whose blood? 

And what the  _ fuck  _ were they going to do about Slender?

“If you want to ask something, just ask it,” Eyeless said, his tone clipped. “You smell like so much confusion it makes me want to gag. So what are you scared to ask? Are you scared of me now? Is that it?”

“Eyeless, come on.” Jeff knotted his sheets between his fingers, irritation swelling mercifully to cover his fear. He wasn’t scared of _ Eyeless, _ he was scared of whatever was making Eyeless act so strange. Wasn’t that obvious? “I’m not scared, I just don’t want to upset you. What are you so mad about, anyway?”

Eyeless snorted derisively. “What is there to not be mad about?”

“Whose blood is that?” Jeff asked—maybe a more pointed question would get Eyeless to stop beating around the bush, or maybe it would only make him angrier. “On your hoodie?”

Eyeless ran his hand across the front of his chest, as though he’d forgotten there was blood there. “It’s not from anybody who matters.”

“Funny. Hoodie said the same thing.”

“He’s got the right idea, then.”

“So who doesn’t matter?”

Eyeless shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. That’s my job.”

“Yeah, fuck you.” Anger was rapidly becoming Jeff’s dominant emotion now, squashing all of his fear and confusion and hurt into a dark, damp corner and oh, he was grateful for that. “No, it’s not. It’s  _ our  _ job. You told me to ask my fucking questions, so fucking answer them.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Eyeless said, his voice twisting into a sudden snarl. “I—”

“Bandages,” Hoodie said, his voice a forced cheerful sing-song as he pushed his way into the room. Masky was conspicuously absent, and Jeff couldn’t blame him. “I have bandages.”

Eyeless whipped around to face him, and Hoodie froze. “Fucking finally,” Eyeless said. “He’s probably already bled out by now.”

“Sorry,” Hoodie said, his shoulders slumping. “We couldn’t—whatever. Doesn’t matter. Just—here they are.”

Eyeless strode towards him, and Jeff was impressed when Hoodie didn’t flinch back at all. Snagging the bandages, Eyeless left the room and slammed the door behind him, leaving Hoodie and Jeff in an awkward, nervous silence until his footsteps faded down the hallway. Then Hoodie exhaled and dropped into the chair beside Jeff’s cot again. 

“Ugh.” Hoodie ran a hand through his hair, mussing it. “He’s in some kind of mood.”

“Yeah,” Jeff said, scoffing. “You can say that again.”

“So I take it your, uh, conversation didn’t go very well?”

“That wasn’t a conversation. I’m going to talk with him later. Once he’s, maybe, I dunno, stopped being such a bitch.” Jeff glared at the ceiling. “What’s he so upset about? Who’s hurt?”

Hoodie squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. “I’m not really supposed to tell you. Eyeless doesn’t want you to worry.”

Whelp, it was time to start worrying. “Fuck. Was it actually somebody important? It wasn’t—it wasn’t BEN, or Toby, or—”

“No, no, no. It really wasn’t anybody super important. It was just—you know how it is. Everybody’s on edge, everybody’s fighting. A few people got hurt more than others, so Eyeless is dealing with that and trying to keep everybody from killing each other. It’s pretty chaotic out there. Nobody’s happy that Slender left, and they’re all confused, and scared, and—you get the idea.” 

“Yeah. That sucks.” Jeff sighed, unsure if he should be relieved that it wasn’t worse or distressed because the proxies were obviously making things more difficult than they needed to be. “So do you think I could go back to my room without getting into a fight? Not that this place isn’t great, but it isn’t and I hate it.”

Hoodie snickered. “You, go somewhere without getting into a fight? That’s cute. Not to mention Eyeless’d skin me if I let you out of here.”

“But maybe I could help out with the other proxies,” Jeff said. “Eyeless is hurt, right? He’s in no position to be breaking up fights if they start.”

“And neither are you,” Hoodie said. “Stop worrying about it. BEN and Toby are down there, and Masky, and—”

“Masky?” Oh, god, that didn’t make him feel any better at all. 

Hoodie laughed. “Yeah, Masky. Come on, don’t look so scared. He’s doing great. You know he stayed and watched for most of your surgery?”

“What? Really?” Jeff asked, his mortal terror for Masky in the middle of a fight distracted by the idea that Masky was with him, surrounded by blood and chemicals and sharp objects. 

“Yeah. Not to jinx it or anything, but—he’s getting better.”

“That’s—that’s really good. I’m glad.” And for a minute, he could almost forget about Eyeless, and in-fighting, and  _ what the hell are they going to do about Slender,  _ because hey—some things were going to hell, and others were clawing their way up from it tooth and nail and  _ winning.  _ “Do you think he’ll—y’know.”

“Talk?” Hoodie shrugged. “Who knows? I’d like to think so, but if he can’t, if he doesn’t ever want to, then—hey, we know sign language.”

“That’s a nice way of looking at it.”

“Thanks. I try. Anyway, you’re probably hungry, right? You haven’t eaten yet. What do you want?”

“I can get it myself, if you’ll let me get up.” 

“Well, see, I would, but, again—Eyeless would kill me. We also don’t have any crutches up here, and I don’t feel like going downstairs to get them,” Hoodie said. “And you shouldn’t be putting weight on your ankle yet. It’s not made for walking on, but the splint’ll help, if you ever decide that you absolutely must get up. Which—don’t. Eyeless’ll be angry.”

“Eyeless is already angry,” Jeff said, scoffing. “What’s one more thing?”

“Come on, Jeff. Be a good patient. Don’t stress him out on purpose.”

“I’m not, I’m not,” Jeff said, grumpily waving Hoodie off. “It’s just going to be really boring laying around here all day.”

“I’ll go get you some stuff. What do you want? I’m bringing you something from the kitchen, too.”

“I have my phone, but all my games and stuff are back at the Mansion.” Jeff sighed, frowning. “Just—could I have a sandwich and some water?”

“You got it,” Hoodie said. “Back in a minute.”

He slipped out of the door, and when he returned he had a bottle of water, a ham and cheese sandwich, playing cards, a book, puzzles, and a Masky. “I know you only asked for these,” he said, handing the water and sandwich to Jeff, “but Masky insisted we bring you some kind of entertainment.”

So, because he couldn’t bear to disappoint Masky, and because he  _ was  _ terribly bored, he spent the rest of the morning playing Texas Hold ‘Em and War, solving Sudoku, and even—believe it or not—reading. Around noon, he found that although he’d done absolutely nothing, he was tired again. Hoodie said that was normal, and they left him alone to nap after a brutally extracted promise to stay in bed. 

It was there that Jack’s phone call found him—curled up and dozing like a lazy cat. The obnoxious ringtone sent him flinching towards the edge of his cot, subsequently knocking his knee into one of the various machines monitoring him, leaving him both miserably confused and in pain as he fumbled to grab his phone and answer it. 

“Fuck you, man,” Jeff said, ignoring the petulant whine in his own voice as he rubbed his sore kneecap. 

“Hi, Jeffy.” Jack’s voice was abhorrently bright and cheerful. “What’s up?”

“I was sleeping,” Jeff grumbled, sitting up and disentangling himself from his sheets. “You woke me up, you bastard.”

“Heh, sorry, then. How are you? Eyeless said he broke your ankle.” Although there wasn’t a hitch in his voice, Jeff heard the sudden, subtle downturn of Jack’s tone as he spoke. 

“It wasn’t Eyeless’s fault,” Jeff said—even if Eyeless was being a prick now, he couldn’t,  _ wouldn’t,  _ let anybody tear him down anymore than he was probably doing to himself. “It was ‘cause I got shot. Come on, you know that.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jack said. It didn’t seem okay. “How are you doing now, though?”

“I’m fine,” Jeff said, stretching himself out just to make sure. Everything felt sore and tired, but there was no immediate pain to concern himself with. Eyeless had done his job well. “Masky and Hoodie have been with me.”

“That’s good,” Jack said, his voice brightening. “They’re cool guys, huh?”

“Yeah. They’re awesome. But what about you? How’s—” Jeff bit his tongue, the knowledge that he was mad at Jack flooding back to him. He let his tone darken. “How’s your trip going?”

“Aw, Jeffy,” Jack said. “Come on. Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad,” Jeff said, attempting to sound as mad as possible. “Why would I be mad?”

“It’s gonna be fine. Everything’s going really great, actually. Do you want to hear about it?”

“No,” Jeff said, even though he kind of really did. “I don’t want to hear about your stupid, shitty bad plan.”

“It’s not  _ my  _ stupid, shitty bad plan,” Jack said. “Come on, let me tell you about it.”

“Whatever.”

“Awesome,” Jack said, and Jeff could almost hear his too-big smile through the phone. The way he suddenly wanted to see it more than anything else in the world (except maybe his family, whole and happy and together) was fucking  _ idiotic.  _ “So we made it to this meeting place, right? There’s, like, a bajillion masters here. They’re all creepy-ass shit, dude, you wouldn’t believe half of them…”

Jeff leaned back into his pillow, letting the upbeat drone of Jack’s voice soothe him even while trying to come up with an argument that would at least justify the nasty feeling writhing in his chest. Worry? Anger? Guilt? He couldn’t tell, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He only knew that he wanted Jack to know he felt it, and that it was all Jack’s fucking fault. 

The longer Jack talked, though, the more genuinely interested Jeff became. He wouldn’t say where, exactly, the masters and their proxies were meeting—Slender’s orders—but it had to be out of the way, if that many people and paranormal creatures could congregate with ease. He did say that the last few hours had mostly been predictable arguing—how to do things, when to do them, who was going to risk their proxies to do them. 

He also offered Jeff an abundance of information in his enthusiastic storytelling. “And Trender  _ totally  _ hit his head on this branch,”—they were in, or near, a forest. “But this one proxy—this kid who can shapeshift, they’re really cool—they nearly fell while they were starting the fire, and”—a fire, so it’s probably cold, right? They can’t have gone far south.

It was all information that could help them, so Jeff determined to remember as much of it as possible. He asked questions where they wouldn’t be overtly suspicious, and Jack seemed so overjoyed to have Jeff showing some kind of interest that he leapt to answer each one as thoroughly as possible. It was almost too easy—but then, Jack wasn’t stupid. 

“So I know you’re probably thinking about escaping that house somehow, and I think you can, because you’re smart, but—”

“We’re not trying to escape.”

Jack laughed. “Oh, of course not. What am I thinking? You’re content to just sit at home and twiddle your thumbs now, huh? You sure whatever painkillers they’ve got you on aren’t too heavy for your teeny-tiny body?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Jeff said, scowling. “I’m serious.”

“No, you’re not. You just want me to think you are, right? I mean, even if you’d changed your mind and were fine with letting Slender do his thing, I know a lot of the other proxies won’t be. Come on, man. I’m not an idiot. So what’s your plan?”

“There isn’t one,” Jeff said—and he wasn’t lying, okay? There really wasn’t one, yet.

“I’m inclined to believe you,” Jack admitted. “But in the event that there is one, can you just maybe not go through with it? I’ve seen—I mean, the masters, they’ve been throwing around a lot of numbers and statistics and I just—I really think it’s not safe for you guys. I know you don’t like hearing that, but it’s honestly probably better if you stay at home.”

“Yeah, well, that’s easy for you to say,” Jeff said. “You get to be right in the middle of everything. You don’t have to sit around and wonder if your master, if your fucking—your fucking  _ family  _ is dead, while you’re just doing nothing.”

“We’re not gonna die,” Jack said, with an air of nonchalance that Jeff loathed. “You’re worrying too much, we’re going—”

“If it’s as dangerous out there as you say it is, then I have every right to be worried,” Jeff said, bristling. “What makes you so much different from us, anyway? What makes it so much easier for you to put your life on the line instead of ours?”

“Well, for one, my life is a lot harder to put on the line than yours. There aren’t many things that can kill me. It’s an acceptable risk—”

“It is  _ not,”  _ Jeff said. His hand tightened around the phone and he had to forcibly relax it, afraid to damage it. “It’s not. You’re—you’re just as important as the rest of us, and it’s not fair that Slender—”

“Slender didn’t  _ make  _ me do anything. I agreed. He’s got a good plan, Jeff. You just have to have a little faith sometimes. We’re all going to be fine.”

“Yeah, well,” Jeff said, “I guess it won’t matter if we’re not, right? Once Slender dies, the rest of us are as good as dead, whether you guys win or not.”

There was a thick, crackling silence on the other end of the phone for a second too long before Jack spoke. “Don’t worry about Slender. He won’t die.”

“You can’t—”

“I can make sure of that. If it means everyone back at home will be fine, then I  _ will  _ make sure of that.”

“It’s not fair,” Jeff snarled, his fingernails digging themselves into his palms. He wanted to hit something, to stab something, to  _ hurt— _ “We should be out there, we should be helping. It’s our fight, too.”

“Yeah, it is, but sometimes you just have to accept that you can’t fight all of your fights by yourself,” Jack said. “Sometimes you have to let other people help.”

“Fuckin’ tell Slender that, if you’re feeling so philosophical.” 

“Philosophical does not mean suicidal, pal,” Jack said, chuckling. There was a sudden burst of noise, racketing Jeff’s heart rate up, and Jack sighed into the phone. “Sorry, Jeff. That was one of the masters—I gotta go. We’re location-scouting today, so it’s nothing dangerous, if that makes you feel better.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Oh. Well—sorry again, I guess. I’ll call you tonight, alright?”

He should say no—he should tell Jack to fuck off, to keep his dying self to himself, keep his noble-fool ideas away from Jeff, but—“Yeah, whatever. Talk to you then.”

The call ended, and Jeff flopped back down onto his cot with a long, weary exhale. God. Fuck. He missed Jack. He was angry and scared and sad and he wanted his family back, fucking hell. He was so sick and tired of being split up, and confused, and kept in the dark. 

If—no,  _ when, _ fuck it—Jack and Slender returned, Jeff would make sure something like this never happened again. Even if he had to argue for days, or weeks, or years, he’d never let his family’s lives drift away from him again. He would seize each one, he would know it and understand it, and he would keep it safe. He would keep  _ them  _ safe. And the first step to that, he supposed, was getting Slender and Jack back home. 

It was time to make a plan, whether Eyeless liked it or not.


	51. In Which Jeff Starts Yet Another Conversation (Only This Time It’s Half an Argument and Half a Freak-Out Fest)

Sneaking around behind Eyeless’s back was like chewing on aluminum foil, painful and stupid. It went against almost everything Jeff valued, and he loathed doing it, but he loathed sitting around and waiting for his family to die even more. The next morning, when Hoodie came to dispense his medication, Jeff leapt at the chance to begin his planning. Endless source of information that he was, Hoodie was the obvious place to start.

Unfortunately, as soon as Jeff tried to weasel information out of him, Hoodie caught on—and, because he was an absurdly reasonable source of endless information, he suggested something something else. “Instead of trying to make a plan without him, why don’t you just—I dunno, talk to him? Give him a couple of days to cool off, and then—”

“We don’t  _ have  _ a couple of days,” Jeff said, twisting his sheets between his fingers. “If what Jack said was right, then the masters are already planning an attack. We can’t bet on them arguing for a couple of days. I mean, they probably will, but I don’t want to stake their lives on it.”

“And I understand that, but I really don’t see what choice you have, Jeff. Eyeless is still pissed as hell. He won’t listen to anybody. Your ankle’s not in any state for traveling, anyway, so that’s going to throw a kink into whatever plan you managed to come up with.”

“Give me crutches.”

“It’s only been a day, man, jeez—”

“But I can walk with crutches, right?” Jeff said, tugging insistently on Hoodie’s sleeve. “Let me have them, and then I’ll go argue with Eyeless for a couple of hours.”

“I told you, he won’t—”

“He’ll listen to me,” Jeff said, lifting his chin in determination. “I’ll make him.”

Hoodie met his eyes, and what he saw there must have satisfied him. “If you insist,” he said, sighing. “How tall are you? You’re just about Masky’s height, right? So five-six, five-seven? Okay. I’ll go grab some crutches—I think they’re still in the storage room. In the meantime, take your splint off. I want to check your stitches again.”

The splint was a hassle to get off, but at least his fingers didn’t feel as weak and slow as they had yesterday. The anesthesia had almost worn off entirely and his whole body seemed to be working, to his delight, much more quickly and efficiently. Hoodie checked his stitches when he returned, replaced his bandages, then put the splint on again and helped Jeff stand gingerly with the crutches. 

“There. How’s that?” he said, standing back and critically eyeing Jeff’s posture. “Is the splint too tight?”

“It’s fine,” Jeff said. It was annoying as all hell to walk with the goddamn crutches, but it was easier than limping along without them, he supposed. “Thanks.”

“Just don’t come bitching to me if it makes the swelling worse,” Hoodie said, jamming his hands into his pockets. “And make sure Eyeless knows that getting up was  _ your  _ idea.”

“Will do. Where’s Eyeless at, anyway?”

Hoodie shrugged. “Beats me.”

“Great.” With that helpful piece of information, Jeff started bumping and bumbling his way around the house to find Eyeless. While it gave him a chance to check in on all of the other proxies, the search was still a pain in the ass. For someone who was usually so omnipresent in the affairs of his underlings, Eyeless could be remarkably reclusive.

His first stop was the living room, where he found BEN and Toby connecting—or attempting to, anyhow—the Xbox to the new TV. They were knelt on the ground in a puddle of wires, their heads bowed close together, so utterly focused on what they were doing that they didn’t notice Jeff until he jabbed Toby in the back with one of crutches.

Toby whipped around, lips pulled angrily back from his teeth and eyes narrowed into dark, angry slivers. He relaxed almost immediately once he recognized Jeff, but it was strange to see him reacting so aggressively to something as minor as a touch. Jeff wanted to pass it off as leftover tension from the fight yesterday, or from Slender leaving, but somehow he thought it wasn’t that simple. 

“Hi, Jeff,” Toby said, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry. Jumpy. Hey, you have crutches now—how’s your leg?”

“It’s great,” Jeff said, lowering himself gingerly into their nest of wires.

“That’s good,” BEN said, shuffling back to make more room for him. “We were all really worried. What happened, anyway? Was it really because of that bullet from back at the compound?”

“Yeah,” Jeff said.

“You idiot,” Toby said. “Why didn’t you get Eyeless to look at it earlier?” 

“I was a little preoccupied trying to keep Slender from making a dumb-ass decision, if you didn’t notice.”

“Oh. Um, and I’m sorry about that, by the way,” Toby said, ducking his head. “I shouldn’t’ve made you talk with him. I should have known it would just upset him. But I don’t blame you for not being able to stop him, okay? You were right. He’s too fucking stubborn.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Jeff said, snorting. 

BEN glanced around them suspiciously to make sure the room was empty, lowering his voice. “So is there a plan? To get Slender back, or go after him, or whatever?”

“Working on it,” Jeff said. “I just have to talk to Eyeless. Do you guys know where he is?”

BEN and Toby exchanged a quick glance. “Well,” BEN said, drawing out the word uncomfortably, “he was in Josh’s room, but that was a few hours ago.”

“Josh’s room? Why?” Jeff asked, an uncomfortable, nagging sensation rising to tug at his ribcage. 

“Listen, Jeff,” Toby said, then bites his lip and glances at the far wall. “Listen, we’re not—I mean, Eyeless said not to stress you out about it. And it’s not that I don’t respect Eyeless—I do, I really do, Jeff, you know that, but—but I don’t think he’s in the right state of mind to be calling the shots, here. Do you know what I mean?”

Jeff looked at Toby, hunched warily over himself and leaning hard on BEN’s shoulder, and he thought he understood—but fuck, he didn’t want to. “What’s Eyeless been doing, Toby? I won’t be mad, whatever you say. Promise.”

Toby cracked his neck—once, twice, three times—and nervously mouthed at his bandaged hands. “It’s nothing really bad, I mean, it’s just—he feels guilty, and he’s scared, I think, and it’s making him angry. He—Josh, he—you won’t tell him I told you, will you, Jeff? He’d be really pissed.”

“I won’t let him be angry at you, Tobe. I might tell him who told me, but I’ll make sure he won’t take it out on you.”

Toby glanced at BEN, who nodded, and then back at Jeff. “Okay. Well, Eyeless, he, uh—he killed Josh, yesterday. He was cleaning the room up a little bit ago.”

“Oh.” Jeff’s heart dropped into his stomach like a cold, uncomfortable lump. For some reason, he had thought that maybe, just maybe, the proxies could avoid killing each other for just a couple of days. He had thought that maybe his and Eyeless’s mock fight had done  _ something.  _ But, evidently, Eyeless was going to have fought Josh either way, so had Jeff just—made it worse? “Why?”

“It wasn’t Eyeless’s fault,” BEN said. “Josh was trying to pick a fight, and Eyeless was already mad about what happened to you, and everybody was freaking out and he just—I dunno, snapped, I guess.”

Jeff rubbed the bridge of his nose, hoping to stave off the headache that was rapidly forming. “Right. Okay. And you guys don’t know where he is now?”

Both of them shook their heads. “Sorry,” Toby said. “You might try his room? I mean, it’s not like he can leave the house.”

“Yeah, that’s probably what I’ll do.” Jeff heaved himself back to his feet, wobbling unsteadily on his crutches and garnering alarmed looks from both Toby and BEN. 

“You’re not very good at balancing,” BEN observed. “You’d better be careful or you might end up tripping and breaking something else.”

“I’ll trip and break your fucking face,” Jeff said, grinning cheerfully. “That’ll be fun.”

BEN laughed and flipped him off, turning back to his mess of wires and consoles. “Good luck, man. Watch yourself.”

“Yeah, good luck,” Toby said. “And be careful. Neither of you should be fighting.”

“You worry too much,” Jeff said, waving him off and starting on his treacherous path up the stairs and to the second floor, where he vaguely remembered Eyeless’s new room being. 

The house was eerily silent as he moved through it. He passed a few other proxies in the hallways, but none of them spoke to him or to each other. They kept their shoulders hunched and their eyes down, and Jeff wondered just what the fuck Eyeless had done yesterday, to make everyone this nervous. 

And why the  _ fuck  _ had he wanted to hide it from Jeff? 

Despite himself, he found himself hesitating as he stood in front of Eyeless’s door. He would like to think that Eyeless wouldn’t hurt him, that Eyeless would listen to him, but he had also thought that Eyeless would be able to calmly and rationally keep all of the proxies under control. Maybe it was too much to expect from one person. 

But he wouldn’t actually hurt Jeff, would he? If he was this upset, at least in part, because he thought it was his fault that Jeff’s ankle was broken, then surely he wouldn’t even think about doing something worse? And they were friends, and friends didn’t hurt each other—right? 

Even if he wouldn’t hurt Jeff, though, who was to say he would listen? He might just ignore everything Jeff had to say, he might just make Jeff leave, he might—

No. No, that won’t happen. They  _ had  _ to talk, no matter how miserable it made them. If they couldn’t work together, then they might be risking Slender’s life, and Jack’s life, and their own lives, and that just wasn’t worth it. 

Taking a deep breath, Jeff raised his hand and rapped his knuckles against Eyeless’s door. A deep, weary sigh greeted him before Eyeless said, “Come in.”

Nudging the door open, Jeff quietly slipped into Eyeless’s room. “Hey,” he said. 

Eyeless was curled under an unfamiliar duvet, lumped into an unmoving ball in the center of his bare mattress. “Hey,” he said. He didn’t roll over or sit up—he didn’t even squirm his head around to look at Jeff. A pang of something between irritation and pity stung Jeff’s chest. “Why are you out of the infirmary?”

“I have crutches,” Jeff said, lowering himself into the chair at Eyeless’s empty desk. 

“You still shouldn’t be up yet.”

“Yeah, whatever, you hypocrite. How’s your stomach, anyway? Fighting with Josh probably didn’t help it.”

The lump on the bed flinched. “Who told you about that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jeff said. 

“I had to do it.” For a brief moment, there was an awful blend of childlike sorrow and raw guilt in Eyeless’s voice that made Jeff’s heart hurt. He couldn’t let this go on— _ wouldn’t  _ let it go on, if it was making Eyeless feel so terrible. Of course, he had no idea what  _ this  _ was, or how to fix it—but hey, he’d always been good at winging it. 

“Did you?” Jeff said. He doubted it. Eyeless was far too clever to be prodded into a fight he didn’t want, when it had technically already been fought. 

“No, I didn’t. He just pissed me off, kind of like a certain someone’s doing right now,” Eyeless said, his voice chilling, right back into the angsty bitch zone. “What do you want? Did you just come here to bother me?”

“Actually, I wanted to start making a plan. I talked to Jack yesterday, and—”

Eyeless flung his blankets off and rolled out of bed. He crossed the room with a predatory grace that made even Jeff nervous. “We are _not_ making a plan,” he said. “I thought I said that yesterday.”

“You did,” Jeff said, standing up because he refused to let Eyeless loom over him while he was sitting. (Eyeless loomed over him when they were both standing, the gangly freak, but whatever.) “But you were in a bad mood yesterday. I guess that hasn’t changed, huh? What’s your problem?”

And  _ maybe  _ that came out a little more passive-aggressively than Jeff had intended, because Eyeless made an inhumanly mad noise before he spoke again. “My  _ problem  _ is that Slender has left me in charge of a bunch of worthless idiots who can’t do anything but infight like a pack of mongrels, and the person who’s supposed to be helping me control them can’t do anything but make things more difficult because he’s being a fucking selfish bastard.”

“Selfish?” Jeff said, stiffening. “How the fuck was I selfish? I fought Josh for you, I—”

“I could have fought him,” Eyeless growled. “I  _ did  _ fight him. I didn’t need your help. All you did was fuckin’ conveniently forget to tell me there was a bullet in your ankle before we fought. You let me hurt you, you shithead.”

“I was being careful, I didn’t mean for that to happen—”

“Yeah, and I didn’t mean to tick you off by being in a bad mood for a whopping couple of days. What, do I not get that right?” Eyeless’s chest was heaving, and his mask was close enough to Jeff’s face that he could smell the dark, antiseptic scent of the black liquid streaking its way to Eyeless’s chin—he hadn’t bothered to keep his mask clean. That wasn’t a good sign. “Fuck off, Jeff. Just leave me alone. I’ll be in a better mood tomorrow, if that’ll make you happy.”

“That’s not it, Eyeless—it’s okay for you to be mad, I just—”

“Is it?” Eyeless said, his voice rough. “Because it sure as fuck doesn’t seem like it.”

“I’m not trying to force you to be happy, I just need you to  _ talk  _ to me. It’s okay for you to be angry, that’s okay, but you can’t just brood on it right now. We really don’t have time. God, I wish we did, I wish there was time for you to feel things the way you want but there’s just  _ not.” _

“What, because you have to go save your precious  _ boyfriend?”  _ Eyeless made a disgusted sound, pacing away from Jeff and towards the opposite side of the room. 

“What’s your problem with Jack now? I thought you were friends.”

“I’m not friends with him,” Eyeless spat. “He made that abundantly clear.”

“Hoodie said you guys talked the other day, so what’d he say to you to make you act like this? Whatever it was, it was wrong.”

Eyeless snorted, an unhappy sneer curling his mouth. “No, I don’t think it was.”

“So tell me what he said.”

“I don’t want to.”

“That’s childish.”

_ “You’re  _ childish.”

“Eyeless, come on. Just talk to me, man. Let’s figure this out.”

“So you’re going to be the bigger person, now?” Eyeless said. “That’s rich, Jeff.”

“Fuck you,” Jeff said, curling his nails into his palms. He _was_ going to be the bigger fucking person, whether Eyeless wanted him to be or not, and they _were_ going to figure this out, like responsible fucking adults. “Yeah, I am, since you obviously aren’t up to it.”

Eyeless faced him, shoulders tight and stiff and chest jumping spastically with his breath. Jeff wished he could see his damn face—he couldn’t tell what Eyeless was feeling with that stupid blue mask in the way. Unlike some, he didn’t have the benefit of being able to smell human emotion, and it was making the conversation exceedingly difficult. 

“As delighted as I am that you’re finally learning about maturity,” Eyeless said, his voice dry, “I really don’t feel like putting up with you right now. Believe it or not, I am capable of taking care of myself and regulating my own  _ moods _ . So why don’t you—”

“But you shouldn’t have to.”

“What?”

“You shouldn’t have to take care of yourself, Eyeless,” Jeff said, and shit, there, he’d said it. He didn’t want Eyeless to be sad, but if Eyeless had to be sad then by hell, Jeff was sick and tired of letting him be sad alone. Maybe it was just the still-close shock of nearly losing Eyeless at the EMFP compound, maybe it was his newfound resolution to _know_ his family before shit like Slender sending them away or Jack leaving happened—whatever the reason, he wasn’t going let these problems slip through his fingers like he always did. Not any fucking more.

“Well who the  _ fuck  _ else is going to?” Eyeless said, and Jeff’s felt his heart crack into a million worthless pieces. It must have shown on his face, because Eyeless’s shoulders suddenly sagged and he sighed. The noise was abrasive in the sudden quiet between them. “Whatever, Jeff. Just—nevermind, okay? I’m sorry I’m being such an asshole. Just forget—”

“No,” Jeff said, and Eyeless winced—a barely perceptible, infuriating gesture. Was this how Jack had felt, when Jeff had danced uneasily around all of his heavy-handed attempts at comfort? “No, I’m not gonna forget, and you don’t have to apologize for acting angry when you  _ are  _ angry.”

Eyeless snorted, and Jeff thought that maybe—just maybe—there was a grudging half-smile under his mask. “Well, you would certainly know.”

“But not doing anything to fix how you’re feeling—that’s a problem, Eye.”

“I am doing something, thanks.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“Brooding, mostly,” Eyeless said, “and avoiding conflict resolution and healthy coping mechanisms. Quite successfully, I might add.”

The side of Jeff’s mouth twitched up, and he saw Eyeless’s shoulders relax slightly. Good. “And, you know, usually I would leave you to it—but I can’t, this time. Won’t, I guess.”

Eyeless’s shoulders tensed again, rising towards his ears, and Jeff cursed silently. “Because of Jack,” Eyeless said, and what little humor there was in his voice had vanished.

“Would you take off your mask?” Jeff said.

“Why?”

“Because I want to see your face if we’re going to have an actual conversation.”

“We’re not having an actual conversation.”

“Yeah,” Jeff said, hobbling his sorry, broken-ankled way over to sit on the bed. After a moment of hesitation, Eyeless sat stiffly beside him. “We are. I mean, unless you’d like for me to start planning our Great Escape without you—”

“There is no Great Escape.”

Jeff shrugged. “I’m open to hearing what you have to say, but that’s what’s called a conversation, buddy.”

“Or you could just do what I tell you to, ‘cause that’s the hierarchy, pal.”

Jeff swallowed hard, looking hard at the ugly yellow carpet beneath their feet. Guilt, swift and remorseless, rose into his throat as he spoke. “I can’t do that, Eyeless. Not this time.”

Eyeless’s body tightened beside his, and Jeff saw his fingernails—blunt and black and unerringly animalistic—digging themselves into the mattress. “Is it wrong,” Eyeless said, after a stretched silence, “that I hate you for that?”

Jeff thought about it, because it wasn’t something he wanted to answer lightly—not when the idea was clearly hurting Eyeless. “Hate is a strong word,” he offered, after a moment, “but I think that—”

“Aw, shit,” Eyeless said, bringing his hands up to scrub wearily at his face underneath the mask. His fingers came away sticky and black. “Shit, Jeff, don’t listen to me. I’m just being stupid. That was a stupid question. I don’t hate you, I’d never hate you—”

“Eyeless, no, come on,” Jeff said, reaching cautiously for Eyeless’s face. His fingers met the cool, hard plastic of Eyeless’s mask and Eyeless flinched, but he didn’t move away. That was something, at least. “Come on. Let me take the mask? Every time I’ve seen you since our fight you’ve been wearing it, and not that it’s not great, but I miss your stupid face.”

Eyeless huffed. “Nothing to miss about it.”

“Hey, I happen to like your face, okay? So let me see it while we talk.”

A subtle tremor ran across Eyeless’s shoulders. “Fine.”

Stretching his fingers through the warm, tangled mess of Eyeless’s hair, Jeff found the heavy strap that held Eyeless’s mask firmly in place and gently eased it off. The weight of the mask itself was nearly inconsequential—it was well-made, after all, light and breathable and perfect for extended use—so it must have been the imagined weight of Eyeless’s trust that made Jeff’s hand tremble as he set the mask aside. It was, without a doubt, one of the heaviest things he had ever had the privilege to hold.

Eyeless stared at him once the mask was removed, expressionless, but all the subtle cues Jeff had been missing out on were flooding to him to like beacon signs. There was the rapid flare of Eyeless’s nostrils, the tic of a muscle beneath his jaw, the line in his cheek that he got when he chewed his tongue—Eyeless was terrified.

“See?” Jeff said, attempting to sound jovial against the wash of sorrow that threatened to overtake him. What the hell was his poor Eyeless so upset about? “That’s not so bad.”

Eyeless scowled. “I didn’t say it was bad, it’s just completely unnecessary.” 

Jeff made a noncommittal sound before saying, “So are you ready to talk now?”

“Yeah, sure, if it’ll make you feel better and get you to quit making stupid escape plans,” Eyeless said, shrugging. 

“Great,” Jeff said, flopping back onto the mattress. When Eyeless didn’t immediately sprawl out next to him, he patted the space beside him empathetically. “C’mon. Lay down.”

Eyeless hesitated, then sighed and relented. When he had shuffled his body into what looked like a comfortable position, Jeff closed the distance between them and curled up, resting his head on Eyeless’s chest and focusing on the measured breathing there. It was ridiculously comforting, but Eyeless tensed beneath him. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“It’s comfortable,” Jeff said—that was part of the reason, of course, but he also thought that it might help Eyeless to have someone solid and close and safe while they talked. He had a feeling it wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation, so he might as well give Eyeless what comfort he could, right? “But, I mean, if you want me to move I can.”

“No,” Eyeless said, a tad too quickly to be normal. “You’re fine.”

“‘kay,” Jeff said, hiding his smile as Eyeless’s hand came down to rest in his hair. He wasn’t looking forward to the prying he was inevitably going to have to do to get Eyeless to talk—if getting answers wasn’t like pulling teeth, then Eyeless’s stubbornness had miraculously faded with his patience, and that wouldn’t make Jeff any more comfortable. 

He was, however, looking forward to understanding whatever it was that had Eyeless on edge. Once he understood it, he could try to help, or work around it, or—or something other than sitting and wondering. He could, just maybe, help Eyeless feel better. It wasn’t about returning a favor (although, with all the times Eyeless had done the same thing for him, maybe it should have been) or manipulating him just to go after Jack (he wasn’t that shitty of a person, okay?), but simply about wanting Eyeless to feel not-terrible.

That was a strange want, and one that he was unused to. Of course he always wanted Eyeless to be happy, but it was more of a background thought than anything else—to pursue it so actively was new, and Jeff thought it might be better. He  _ wanted  _ it to be better, because it—it just felt better. But what did he know about healthy relationships? Maybe he was going about this all wrong. Maybe he should have given Eyeless space. Maybe he should have—

No. No, he was going to do this. Eyeless’s fingers were brushing through his hair, and he wasn’t being pushed away, and he had a chance to be a better friend. He wasn’t going to run away like a fucking coward. He was sick of running from people. It was time to start being a better friend, a better leader, a better person.

Ha—ha ha ha. That  _ was  _ rich. What had he gotten himself into?


	52. In Which Eyeless is a Stubborn Fuck-Nugget

“So how  _ is  _ your stomach, really?” Jeff asked. He figured it was better to start with simple, factual questions—not to mention that he really did want to know the answer. He didn’t want Eyeless to be in pain while they were talking. 

“It’s fine,” Eyeless said. Jeff was about to argue—of  _ course  _ Eyeless would say that—but then Eyeless added, “Hoodie demanded to see it after the fight, and you know how exhausting it is to try and argue with him. He had to replace some of the stitches and rebandage it, but that’s all. It’s nothing to worry about.”

Stretching out his fingers over Eyeless’s stomach, he felt the coils of bandages there and nodded. “Okay. Does it still hurt?”

Eyeless shrugged. “Not anymore so than usual.”

“And you aren’t hurt anywhere else?”

“Just a few cuts. They didn’t even need stitches.”

“That’s good,” Jeff said. He took a deep breath, curling his fingers into the fabric of Eyeless’s hoodie, before asking a more difficult question. “Why were you fighting Josh, anyway?”

Eyeless was a quiet for a moment, his fingers stilling their paths through Jeff’s hair. “Not for any good reason,” he finally said, sighing. “I was angry and he was angry, and y’know. Shit happened. I shouldn’t’ve killed him, but I just—I dunno, man. I wasn’t really thinking.”

“Did you mean to kill him?”

“No.  _ I  _ didn’t want to, but my, uh, more primitive thought processes don’t always listen to what I want.”

So BEN hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said Eyeless had snapped. While Eyeless usually fought with finesse and tact, there were always times when that failed, and Jeff knew it was as scary for Eyeless as it was for any bystanders who watched him when he was like that—brutal and animalistic and unthinking. For him to have turned on Josh like that…

“It seems like you were more than just angry at Josh,” Jeff said. 

Eyeless made a noncommittal sound and ducked his head, snuffling at Jeff’s hair. “You need a shower,” he said. “You smell like that stupid infirmary.”

“Was that actually your best attempt at a deflection?”

“It was an honest observation.”

“Yeah, okay, sure. Let’s observe something more relevant to the conversation at hand: why’d you snap at Josh? You don’t usually do that if someone just ticks you off.”

“He’s an asshole.  _ Was  _ an asshole, I guess.”

“Listen, if I was going to tell you that killing people just because they’re assholes is wrong, I’d be a giant hypocrite. I’m not mad because you killed Josh. I didn’t like him, either, and if you hadn’t done it I probably would’ve. But that’s not your thing, Eye. You don’t just kill people ‘cause you’re mad at them, so it had to have been something else.”

“He was a problem,” Eyeless said. “He was riling up all of the other proxies. If I hadn’t done something, then maybe there would have been a bigger fight and people would have gotten hurt—but that’s not  _ just  _ it, Jeff. It really was because I was just—I was so fucking  _ angry  _ at him.”

“Why?” 

“Why?” Eyeless laughed, bitter and dry. “It was his fault that we had to fight. It was his fault that I hurt you. Hell, he threatened to  _ kill _ you, Jeff.”

“He did?” Jeff asked.

“Before I fought with him, that’s what he said. I couldn’t just let him walk away—but I didn’t mean to kill him. I really didn’t.” 

“I believe you,” Jeff said, and Eyeless let out a long, slow breath. “Josh was an idiot. Why didn’t he just walk away? I beat him fair and square.”

“You did,” Eyeless said, and the pride in his voice warmed Jeff. “It was a good fight. I think that if our fight had gone over the way we intended it to, we wouldn’t’ve had any problems with Josh after that. But after I broke your ankle, Josh saw a weakness—in you or me or both of us, I guess. He just had to chase after it.”

“But you know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

“Josh’s personality flaws?”

“Well—yeah, but breaking my ankle, too. That wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for it at all.”

Eyeless grimaced, glancing away. “You probably should.”

“Why the fuck would I?” Jeff asked. He went to prop himself up on his elbow, because he wanted to see Eyeless’s face again, but Eyeless’s fingers tightened convulsively in his hair and he froze. Almost immediately, Eyeless’s hands were off of him and he was rolling out of bed, his body a tense whipcord line. 

“Sorry,” he said, and goddammit it all he started pacing again—all of the calm they’d managed to find had snapped away like a twig. “Sorry, fuck. You don’t have to stay. You can go. I didn’t mean to—to grab you.”

Jeff sat up, raking a hand through his hair. His scalp stung some, but it really wasn’t anything for Eyeless to get this upset about. “Eyeless, no, come on. It doesn’t even hurt.”

“You shouldn’t have to be here, though,” Eyeless said, looking desperately at him. “You shouldn’t have to babysit me. You’ve got more important things to be doing.”

_ “Nothing  _ is more important than what I’m doing right now,” Jeff said, allowing his voice to harden as though Eyeless was a particularly belligerent newbie. 

Eyeless actually looked startled. “No, that’s not—this isn’t me being self-deprecating or some shit, I’m serious. You could be sorting out the other proxies, you could be talking to Jack, you could be resting your ankle like I  _ told  _ you to, you little shit.”

“Yeah, I could be,” Jeff said. “But I’m not going to, because you’re more important than any of that right now. Everything that needs to happen can only happen with you, because you’re  _ Eyeless,  _ okay?”

Eyeless’s face morphed into something like realization, and Jeff felt the beginnings of relief—did Eyeless  _ finally  _ understand?—before Eyeless spoke. “Oh. I get it.”

“Good,” Jeff said, letting his shoulders relax. “Now—”

“You’re leader.”

“What.”

“That’s what you want, right? You want me to let you be leader. I’m obviously not fit to be making decisions right now,” Eyeless said, “so I’ve got no problem letting you make them. You’re—you’re probably right, about going after Slender, but I just can’t—”

“What the  _ fuck,  _ Eye?” Jeff said, grinding the heels of his hands into his temples where there’s a headache forming. He felt kind of sort of like screaming, because why the goddamn hell was his best friend such a stubborn fuck-nugget? 

Of course he didn’t want to be leader. How many times did he have to say it? Maybe it was a little, teeny-tiny bit understandable that people would think he would want to be, what with his...personality—but he’d been working on that, dammit, and he was going to keep working on it. 

On the bright side, he realized that Eyeless’s offer came with an opportunity. 

“Fine,” Jeff said, nodding decisively. “Fine. I’ll be leader.”

Eyeless’s shoulders slumped with something that looked heartbreakingly like relief. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, so—”

“So you have to do what I say.”

“I won’t go after Slender with you.”

“Deal. But you’ll listen to me?”

“Sure,” Eyeless said. “It’s what you’ve done for years, right?”

“My first order as leader is—hm,” Jeff said—and okay, maybe he said it a little pompously, because he knew this would be his only chance to (and to be honest, it was the only chance he wanted)—“It’s for you to come back over here and finish talking to me.”

Eyeless groaned and spun around, glowering at the wall. “There’s not even anything to talk about,” Eyeless said, his voice a petulant whine. “You got what you wanted.”

“No, see, there are a  _ lot  _ of things for us to talk about—like our escape plan, or what Jack said to you, or our  _ feelings.” _

Eyeless didn’t even scoff at Jeff’s worthless joke, and Jeff’s stomach sank. “I don’t want to,” Eyeless said. “I’m tired.”

“I know,” Jeff said, even though he really didn’t—but he could try to sympathize, right? “I know, but running away from this isn’t going to make it go away.”

“That’s what we’ve always done before.”

“Yeah, and it hasn’t helped much, has it?”

Eyeless turned back around, and the look on his face was utterly miserable. It made Jeff’s heart ache. “Nothing does,” he said. “This won’t be any different.”

“Maybe not,” Jeff admitted, “but if you trust me enough to let me be leader, then trust me enough to let us try this.”

Eyeless’s stance wavered, and Jeff saw it—he saw Eyeless’s strength cracking, his determination crumbling, and for once, Jeff wasn’t afraid it. Instead, he opened his arms, and Eyeless returned to him in a couple of short strides. He crumpled against Jeff’s chest, weak and heavy, and buried his face into his neck. Jeff could feel him scenting there, breathing in quick, nervous gulps of air. 

“There,” Jeff said, bringing his hand up to scratch lightly at Eyeless’s scalp. “Thank you.”

Eyeless sighed shakily, and the noise encouraged Jeff—Eyeless wasn’t bothering with bravado anymore. At least, not as much as he had been. It must have been a relief to get rid of the burden of absolute leadership, if only for a short time, and Jeff was glad he could give Eyeless that. 

Jeff allowed them to spend a few minutes in silence, listening to the slow settling of Eyeless’s breathing as he relaxed. Scraping his nails through Eyeless’s hair and around his ears elicited a few pleased hums, so Jeff kept doing it—the calmer he could get Eyeless the better. He didn’t, however, want to give Eyeless too much time to worry about what was happening, so he had to prod their conversation back into existence after a couple of minutes.

“Where do you want to start?” he asked, moving his hand in slow, steady strokes over the bony ridge of Eyeless’s spine. It tensed beneath his hand when he spoke, but otherwise Eyeless remained still and calm. 

“I don’t know. Wherever,” Eyeless said. “You pick.”

And Jeff supposed that was his job, anyway, since Eyeless was letting him play leader. “Okay. You said that I should blame you for breaking my ankle—why’s that?”

“Because it’s my fault,” Eyeless said, matter-of-factly. “If it hadn’t been because of me, your ankle wouldn’t be broken.”

“If we follow that line of logic, than could we also say that it’s my fault you got shot at the compound?”

“What? No,” Eyeless said, lifting his head and scowling. “You were fighting, too. You were trying to keep both of us safe.”

Jeff shrugged. “It was me who suggested we fight our way out, though. If I hadn’t done that, then you’d be fine.”

“I would have suggested it if you hadn’t,” Eyeless said. “And it wasn’t your actual, physical fault that I got shot—it wasn’t your fault at all.”

“I know,” Jeff said, and he was surprised to find that he actually did. “Just like it wasn’t your fault that you broke my ankle.”

“No, it is. I actually, physically, broke your ankle.  _ I  _ hurt you. Nobody else did.”

“I made a mistake, and you made a mistake, and my ankle got broken because of it. It was an  _ accident,  _ Eyeless, it was nobody’s fault—except Josh’s, maybe, for roping us into that stupid fight in the first place.”

Eyeless was quiet for a moment, dropping his head back to Jeff’s shoulder. “You were scared,” he said, eventually. “After I hurt you, you looked scared. Of me.”

And he had been—the pain and the fighting energy and the blank, emotionless stare of Eyeless’s mask had all twisted into a knot of terror when he’d been lying on the ground, hunched around his ankle. “I was scared,” he said, “but that’s not your fault, either. I was too focused on you because of the fight, and I couldn’t tell what you were thinking because of the mask, and I just—you know how it is. I just freaked for a minute.”

“I know. I get that. But I just—I don’t want you to ever be afraid of me, and I fucked up and I hurt you and—”

“It was an  _ accident,”  _ Jeff said, leaning back and cupping Eyeless’s face in his hands. “It was not your fault. I do not blame you, and I don’t want you to blame yourself. Understand?”

Eyeless balked, trying to nudge his face back into Jeff’s neck. 

“Eyeless, come on. I’m not going to let it go,” Jeff said, leaning back and knocking their foreheads together. “Do you understand that breaking my ankle was not your fault?”

After a long, stubborn silence, Eyeless nodded. Jeff was of a mind to make him speak, but he didn’t want to exhaust Eyeless’s emotional reserves before they were even halfway done with their conversation, so he let it slide. 

“Good,” he said, smiling and dropping a kiss to Eyeless’s nose. “I’m glad.”

Eyeless made a warbling, embarrassed (and fucking adorable) noise and shoved his reddening face into Jeff’s shoulder. This time Jeff let him, wiping the black slime that stuck to his fingers surreptitiously against the blankets. 

“Onto our next order of business,” he said, as cheerfully as could. “What did Jack say to you?”

Eyeless flinched at the name, his entire body stiffening and his breath faltering. Jeff scratched the back of his neck, hoping to dispel some of the tension there, but to little avail. “Nothing,” Eyeless said. 

Jeff snorted, tucking his chin over the top of Eyeless’s head. “That’s stupid.”

“I’m stupid.”

“What? No, Eye—”

“That’s what Jack said,” Eyeless said, the words sticking bitterly to his tongue, “amongst other things. He said I was stupid for getting dragged into a fight with you in the first place, and for not noticing that you were hurt before we fought.”

Almost everything in Jeff was howling for him to deny what Eyeless was saying, to shut him up because it was so obviously, glaring  _ wrong,  _ but a small part of him knew that Eyeless needed to say it. Jeff needed to know what was hurting him, and Eyeless needed to acknowledge it, so he clamped his mouth shut and—for once—listened. 

“He said I should have been paying more attention, and you know what? He was fucking right. But I was too busy wallowing in my own self-pity and being pissed at Slender to give a shit about you guys—about my  _ family.  _ I was being selfish. Hell, I’m  _ still  _ being selfish. I should be out there trying to keep everyone in line, but I’m just back here acting like an angsty five-year-old.”

Eyeless’s chest was jumping erratically as he spoke, and there was an angry rumble clinging to each of his words. It made Jeff furious to hear him berating himself, but he wouldn’t interrupt—not until Eyeless was done and Jeff could refute every stupid thing he thought. 

“And why? Because I’m  _ scared.  _ Because I’m a fucking  _ coward.  _ I don’t know what to do, and I don’t want to know what to do because what if I’m wrong? What if what I tell everyone to do is wrong and it gets us killed? And even if it doesn’t, what’s Slender gonna do when he finds out  _ I  _ convinced everyone to disobey him? He sure as fuck won’t want me to be leader anymore.”

Squirming out of Jeff’s arms, Eyeless resumed pacing along the far side of the room. Jeff watched him, wary of an escape attempt, but he seemed content to stay nearby—and, more importantly, to keep talking. 

“He’ll probably kick me out, and I won’t be allowed back, and I’ll never see you guys again. And guess what? In my twisted, fucked-up shit of a mind, that’s worse than all of us dying,” Eyeless snarled, baring his teeth at the carpet. “So, like, I can’t even be mad at Jack, can I? He’s right—I’m selfish, and I’m stupid and a coward and I shouldn’t even  _ be  _ leader. I should  _ never  _ have been leader.”

Eyeless turned back towards him, spreading his arms helplessly. “What am I supposed to do?” he asked, voice cracking. “What the fuck am I supposed to do, Jeff? I have  _ no  _ idea. At this point, the only thing I can do with any sort of confidence is mope around and wait for the inevitable. It shouldn’t be like that. It’s never been like that before. I’ve always—I’ve always known what to do, everyone’s always listened to me.

“But now they don’t. Josh didn’t. Jack won’t. You won’t. And I don’t blame you for that, I know you have to do what you think is right and that’s obviously not siding with me on this—but I’m so confused, man. What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with all of us? What happened?”

Jeff stared at him for a long moment, waiting for another round of agonized verbal vomit. When none was forthcoming, he narrowed his eyes and finally allowed himself to grind his teeth together, ignoring Eyeless’s cringe. 

“Okay, first,” he said, “I want you to know how fucking angry it makes me to hear people insulting you—yourself included. Second, I want you to know that we are absolutely not ending this conversation without your head in a better place, so don’t worry about when I’ll have to walk out that door ‘cause it’s not happening until you say it is. Now c’mere.”

Jeff opened his arms again, and Eyeless didn’t waste any time ramming himself up against Jeff’s chest. His body was trembling furiously and his breath was fast and shallow against Jeff’s neck. “‘m sorry,” he said, his fingers tightening spastically in Jeff’s shirt. “‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, this is so fucking stupid—”

“It is not,” Jeff said, scowling at the top of Eyeless’s head.

“I’m the one who was being a jerk, you shouldn’t have to take care of me—”

“Hey, be quiet for a minute, okay? We will definitely discuss that train of thought, but right now you’re freaking out a little bit.” Jeff grabbed Eyeless’s hand and moved it to rest between their chests. “Breath with me, ‘kay?”

“I’m not freaking out,” Eyeless said, but he obeyed Jeff’s instructions without complaint.

It took several minutes for Eyeless’s breathing to even out, but that was fine. If it was what Eyeless needed, it was what Eyeless would get. They might have been short on time, what with Slender’s unknown plans, but they had goddamn had time to do this right. 

“Good,” Jeff said, once the rise and fall of Eyeless’s chest matched his. “That’s really good, Eye.”

“No it’s not,” Eyeless said, mutinously nudging his nose into the angle of Jeff’s jaw.

Jeff had no idea what could have possibly been bad about breathing correctly, and he doubted Eyeless did, either—he was just seeking any chance he could find to berate himself, and it pissed Jeff off. 

Rolling them over on the bed, Jeff straddled Eyeless’s hips, careful to avoid putting any pressure on the wound in his abdomen. “Okay, motherfucker,” he said. “You ready to figure this out or do you want some more time to belittle yourself—which by the way, we will be discussing.”

Eyeless sighed heavily, but Jeff could see the tiniest glimpse of relief in the loosening lines between his brows as he nodded. Good—he was so fucking glad he could offer Eyeless comfort, after everything Eyeless had done for him. He had a feeling this was going to be a long, arduous conversation, but he wasn’t going to skimp out it. 

They were going to fucking figure this out, no matter how difficult it was.


	53. In Which Jeff Fucking Figures Things Out and Eyeless is a Self-Loathing Idiot

“Jack is an idiot,” Jeff said, and for the first time in a couple of months he actually meant it. “Everything he said was absolutely wrong.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Eyeless said. 

“How so?”

“I just  _ told  _ you.”

“You just told me a bunch of bullshit that wasn’t true.”

“It  _ is—” _

“Absolute bullshit. You aren’t stupid, and you aren’t a coward, and you aren’t selfish—at least, not anymore than you have a goddamn right to be.”

Eyeless glared at the wall, and Jeff could see a muscle jumping in his jaw. “Well, obviously I’m doing something wrong or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“I didn’t say you hadn’t done anything wrong,” Jeff said. “In fact, you’ve done several things wrong, and all of them are pissing me the fuck off. You’re taking all the blame for this stupid, fucked-up situation we’re in, and you’re trying to deal with all of this shit on your own, and you won’t  _ talk  _ to me.”

“I’m talking to you right now,” Eyeless said.

“You are,” Jeff said, trying to soften his voice, “and I’m very proud of you for that.”

Eyeless’s body shuddered under his, and a light went off in Jeff’s mind. That was important, wasn’t it? For Eyeless to have someone proud of him, to have someone who wasn’t jumping at his throat or threatening him or—

Or sending him away. 

“That’s something you need, right, Eye?” Jeff said, his chest and his stomach all suddenly filled with sappy, gooey affection. His poor Eyeless. “Somebody telling you you’re good? Somebody to let you know you’re doing things right?”

“No,” Eyeless said, scowling—but he was looking at the far wall, refusing to meet Jeff’s eyes even though he couldn’t see them. “That’s fucking childish.”

“It’s not childish to want to know that people like you, or like what you’re doing—or hell, even  _ notice  _ what you’re doing.”

“I don’t—I don’t do what I do because I want somebody to pat on the head and throw me a bone. I’m not a dog. I do what I do because I  _ want  _ to, because it’s the right thing to do, because I care about doing it.”

“I know,” Jeff said. “That’s one of the things I really admire about you. Wanting to be appreciated doesn’t negate any of that stuff, though. It just means that—you know. That you want to be appreciated, which is totally fine.”

“It’s stupid and needy.”

“It is not. It’s just something you want. You’re allowed to want things, you know. You don’t always have to selfless—or responsible, or patient, or nice. It’s okay to be angry, or sad, or scared. It doesn’t make you any less awesome of a person. It just means you have problems, and sometimes you feel things that aren’t the best when you’re working through them. As long as you aren’t taking it out on anybody—”

“I have been,” Eyeless said, his voice tightening with distress. “That’s the thing, I have been. I’ve been mad at you guys—at Slender, at the EMFP, at everybody.”

“At yourself.”

“And I deserve it, Jeff, you can’t say that I don’t.”

Jeff reached forward, cupping Eyeless’s face in his hands. “You do not,” he said, emphasizing each word, “deserve to hate yourself, Eyeless. Don’t you  _ ever  _ think that.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Eyeless said, squirming uncomfortably. “I meant I—I’ve been an asshole. If I was happy with being an asshole I would—be even more of an asshole, I guess.”

“I don’t mean that you have to like every single thing that you do. It’s okay to be dissatisfied with some of your choices, or the way you’ve acted. That’s what drives you to be a better person, but this isn’t that, Eyeless. If it’s making you feel terrible enough to—to make you stop believing in us, to stop believing in  _ yourself— _ then it’s not anything that’s going to benefit anybody. Treating yourself like this is not a good thing. Quit defending it, you self-sacrificial fuckhead.”

“But there’s so much wrong with me,” Eyeless argued—like he actually believed that there was something fundamentally wrong with the way he felt, in the wake of everything they were going through. It kind of made Jeff want to punch him. “What am I supposed to do about that? I can’t just accept it.”

“Eyeless,  _ nothing  _ is wrong with you. Maybe you feel like shit right now, but you’re—you’re responsible, and hard-working, and you’re so damn smart—”

“Shut up,” Eyeless said, lips pulling back from the gunmetal-gray daggers packed tightly between his jaws. It was as worthless of a threat display as Jeff had ever seen. Eyeless wouldn’t bite him—not after he’d already spent so much time wallowing because he’d broken Jeff’s ankle, not when they weren’t even really fighting. “That’s not true.”

“Yes,” Jeff said, arching over to smack their foreheads together—he wanted Eyeless to feel him, to know he was there, to be unable to ignore his presence. Since hugging him might have hurt his stomach (and was therefore absolutely off-limits), this would have to do. “It fucking is.”

“No, it’s—”

“Shut up for a minute,” Jeff said. “As much as I love hearing you talk, and as much as you need to, this conversation seems to be turning into an entirely one-sided ‘hate on Eyeless’ party. It’s pissing me off. Know why?”

“Because you’re a grouchy son of a bitch.”

“Because you don’t  _ fucking  _ deserve it, Eyeless, and I hate hearing you talk about yourself like this. You’re—you’re amazing, I look up to you so goddamn much, and it just frustrates the hell out of me that you can’t see yourself that way. You keep picking at all the bad stuff and ignoring the good and that’s not right.”

“There isn’t anything good to ignore,” Eyeless said, his voice quiet and miserable, and Jeff felt his heart break just that little bit more. 

“What do you mean?” Jeff said. He knew Eyeless was wrong, but saying that right off of the bat wouldn’t get him anywhere. If Eyeless felt like Jeff didn’t really understand  _ why  _ he was obviously such a terrible person, then nothing Jeff said would carry any weight. 

“I’m not a good person. I’m—maybe sometimes, I mean—I can be responsible, or smart, or—or even like a good leader. None of that is because I  _ am,  _ though. All of that is because of what other people wanted me to be. It’s not real. It’s just—it’s like acting, you know?”

“You think that because you’re not naturally good at something it means less?”

Eyeless looked helplessly at him. “I don’t know, yeah? I never really wanted to be good at any of that stuff. I just did it so—so Slender would be proud of me, when I was little. And now that he’s gone, I just—I realized that that was really stupid, and I’m not sure it even did any good. What am I supposed to do with all the stuff that’s supposed to be good if it can’t even do what it supposed to in the first place?”

“You think Slender leaving is your fault, too.” It wasn’t a question. The answer was more than obvious in the guilty hunch of Eyeless’s shoulders and the disappointment in his words. “God, Eyeless.”

“Sorry,” Eyeless murmured. “I told you this was stupid.”

“No, that’s not—I’m not mad at you, dammit,” Jeff said. “I just can’t believe you feel the need to take responsibility for all of this shit.”

“Like I said,” Eyeless said, shrugging, “Stupid.”

Jeff bit his tongue against the reply that immediately wanted to come out of his mouth—no you’re  _ fucking  _ not—and thought for a minute. “Okay, first of all, I understand that maybe you’re not intrinsically good at some things—or even at most things, and that’s totally fine. That’s normal, actually. But you know what’s amazing, Eyeless?”

After a stretched silence that Jeff refused to break, Eyeless grudgingly asked, “What?”

“That in spite of that, you managed to work hard enough to  _ make  _ yourself good at those things. You  _ are  _ a good leader, and you  _ are  _ responsible, and you  _ are  _ smart. Maybe you weren’t motivated to become those things for the right reason, but you did become them, and just because some people aren’t acknowledging that right now doesn’t make it worth any less.”

“It’s not enough, though,” Eyeless said. His hands came up to rest on Jeff’s sides, digging blunt fingernails into the spaces between his ribs. “If I really were all of those things, then Slender would have stayed—or he would have trusted us, would have trusted  _ me,  _ enough to take us with him. But he didn’t. He took Jack. After everything I’ve fucking done for him, he picked  _ Jack.”  _

Eyeless’s voice cracked, his breath hitching, and Jeff wrapped his arms around his shoulders and squeezed. “Oh, Eyeless, that’s not true,” he said, pressing his mouth against the warm flesh of Eyeless’s temple. He knew, painfully well, what it was like to think that someone else could have been chosen over you—it was the very thing he had feared when Jack had first joined their group, and he had been certain that Eyeless would turn to him instead of Jeff.

He was never going to have to be afraid of that again, was he?

“He took Jack because Jack was better suited for the job at hand,” Jeff said, and even as he said it he realized he wasn’t just lying to himself—it was a weight off of his shoulders that he hadn’t realized had been there. It had been  _ logical  _ to take Jack, instead of one of them. It hadn’t been Slender choosing Jack over them. “He’s less of a risk to bring to a fight—hell, he’s immortal.”

“Exactly,” Eyeless said. His voice was still wobbling, but frustration was seeping into it. “Jack is better than me, and nothing I do is going to change that. He doesn’t even have to work to be better, and that’s what really sucks. No matter how much I try, I can’t be immortal. I can’t teleport, or do freaky magic tricks, or anything special like that. All I can do is eat people.”

“You’re right,” Jeff said, carding a hand through Eyeless’s hair, “you can’t be Jack. You can only be you. But fucking hell, Eyeless, you’re something great. You can do so much more than eating people, okay?”

“Like what?” Eyeless said, and although it was phrased as a challenge, it finally,  _ finally  _ gave Jeff an opening to tell Eyeless what he needed to hear.

“Like caring about a group of no-good fuckups the way our own families couldn’t. Like wrangling a group of crazy-ass kids into doing what you want without slaughtering half of them. Like teaching yourself  _ anything  _ you need to know, just so you can be sure that you’re useful to us—and you  _ are.  _ Eyeless, you’re the one who holds us all together.

“ Slender might be the one giving us a purpose, but you’re the one making sure we’re fulfilling it without—without killing ourselves, or each other.  You’re the one who puts us back together if we fuck up, you’re the one we all look up to, the one we want to  _ be.  _ You’re amazing, Eyeless. Why can’t you see that?”

“Because it’s not true,” Eyeless hissed. “You’re just saying that because—because—”

“Because why? Because I’m your friend? Because I care about you? Hey, guess what, Eyeless—I don’t give a fucking shit about very many people, so doesn’t it say something that I think this highly of you? Doesn’t that mean anything?”

“You’re just saying it to be nice, so no, it doesn’t mean anything.”

Jeff curled his hand into the collar of Eyeless’s shirt and twisted it—not tightly enough to freak him out, but enough to jostle his thoughts. “I am not a nice person,” Jeff said. “I’m saying it because it’s true.”

“No—”

“Are you calling me a liar, you fuckin’ bitch?”

“No, Jeffy,” Eyeless said, groaning and grinding the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “You just think it’s true, but it’s really not.”

“You’re being stubborn,” Jeff said, leaning down to jab his nose unapologetically against Eyeless’s. “Know what we can do about that, though?”

“You could quit arguing with me.”

“Or I could sit here and list every single one of the great things about you until you realize that you’re a fucking idiot for thinking so little of yourself.”

“Well, that’d be a waste of time.”

“Fortunately, I disagree with that just as much as I’ve disagreed with everything that’s come out of your mouth since we started this conversation,” Jeff said. Rolling off of Eyeless’s chest and onto the bed next to him, Jeff snaked his arms around Eyeless’s neck and tangled their legs together. “Comfortable?”

“Only if you’re okay with me getting my gross eye-goop in your hair.”

“It’s fine.”

“Not gonna lie, it does make you smell better. Like, could you not have taken a shower or something after you got out of the infirmary? Seriously, man. You smell like chemicals.”

“You smell like crippling self-esteem.”

“Thanks.”

Jeff nuzzled into Eyeless’s bony shoulder and took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to let Eyeless keep talking them in circles—it was time to start breaking the terrible, awful walls he kept around himself. They had already been cracked, but that, evidently, wasn’t going to be enough. 

Fortunately, Jeff thought he knew what would do the trick—the things Eyeless had been craving since they’d been thrown out of the Mansion all those months ago. The things that Slender, the others, and even Jeff himself had neglected to give him. (And realizing it now, Jeff was so  _ pissed  _ that he didn’t see it before—but now wasn’t the time for that.)

Affection, acknowledgement, attention—all things that Eyeless would invariably think were petty, unnecessary wants. Maybe, once upon a time, Jeff would have thought that too. He knew better now. Those things were fucking  _ needs,  _ especially for Eyeless. He’d been able to find them in Slender’s approval, and in the obedience of the proxies, but with Slender gone and the proxies utterly and entirely unsure—

It left Eyeless floundering. While Jeff would have loved for Eyeless to be confident enough, or to have felt safe enough, to deal with the sudden lack of outward validation—well, he couldn’t expect it right away. It was something they were going to have to work on. For now, all Jeff could do was try to give Eyeless what he so desperately needed.

“You’re incredible, Eyeless,” Jeff said. He felt Eyeless’s body tense again, but he pressed on. “You’ve always been so incredible. Slender must have seen it when you were just a kid. He’s trusted in you  _ forever.  _ God, you’ve been leader for so long. I don’t know how you could think you don’t deserve to be anymore. Where would we be without you?”

“Better off,” Eyeless said. 

It was a struggle to clamp down on his argumentative nature, but he did. Instead of locking horns with Eyeless in yet another back-and-forth of how he may or may not have been a piece of shit, Jeff merely continued his absolutely completely truthful monologue. “Everybody has so much faith in you, Eye. They’re all totally sure that you’re going to get us out of this mess.”

“Yeah, well, their faith is poorly placed.”

“I’m sure you will, too. Once you get a good night’s sleep and relax for a little while you’ll be able to figure this out—just like always. Everybody’s going to do what you say, and you’ll be able to help Slender, and we’ll all be okay.”

“No. We won’t be—you’re the boss now. I made you the boss.”

“ _ I’m  _ going to do what you say. I can’t right now, since you’ve been acting this way—and don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that you acted out. It could have been done in a more constructive way, with less—ah, yelling and killing—but you did what you did to let everyone know you were hurting, and that’s okay. We’ll work on healthy coping mechanisms later.”

“We’ll be dead later.”

“And you’ll be so good at learning how to cope—you’re just so good at learning. You put your mind to something, and you work so hard, and it’s amazing to watch it pay off. _You’re_ amazing, man.”

“No, I’m not,” Eyeless said, a reedy growl shuddering under his voice. “Shut up.”

“You are,” Jeff said, hardening his voice. “You’re amazing, and you’re intelligent, and hard-working, and responsible, and—”

“Shut  _ up.” _

“—patient and fuckin’ kind and diplomatic—”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up, I’m  _ not.” _

“—and you’ve got some kind of bull-headed freak determination, you little shit, and a fuck-ton of work ethic to boot—”

“Stop saying that, Jeff, it’s fucking wrong—”

“I’m so goddamn proud of you—so is Slender, and so are the others. There’s so much to be proud of, fuck it—”

_ “Shut the fuck up.”  _ Eyeless’s hands came up and his fingers sunk into his hair and tore at his scalp until little, hurting lines drove themselves across the bridge of his nose and the edges of his eye sockets and Jeff  _ hated  _ it.

“Stop it,” Jeff snarled, grabbing Eyeless’s wrists and flattening them to the bed. Eyeless struggled for all of two seconds before falling limp, his chest heaving and his teeth bared. Lowering his voice into something dangerous and sharp, Jeff said, “Do not  _ ever  _ hurt yourself, Eyeless. I don’t care how badly you feel. That is  _ not allowed.” _

“It should be,” Eyeless said. His voice was cracking, his breath hitching against swallowed sobs. “It fuckin’ should be. I’m a bad person, I’m bad—”

“You are  _ not.”  _ Jeff released Eyeless’s wrists, moving his hands up to cup Eyeless’s jaw and press their foreheads together. “Don’t you fucking say that.”

“It’s true, it’s fucking true—” 

“It’s a fucking filthy lie. You are  _ good,  _ Eyeless.”

And that was it. Eyeless broke. His face crumpled and he knotted his fingers into the front of Jeff’s shirt, curling towards him to bury his face into his chest. Sobs racked his body, hunching his thin shoulders towards his ears and seizing his breath in his throat. His whole frame trembled violently, wretched and terrified. 

An animal croon rose in Jeff’s throat—a sound he was almost certain he had learned from Eyeless comforting  _ him— _ and he wrapped himself around Eyeless. “Shh, Eyeless, shh-shh-shh. It’s okay. It’s okay, you’re okay. You’re good.”

“No,” Eyeless said, but it was weaker now, choked by crying. “‘m not. ‘m bad.”

Jeff shook his head, resolutely holding Eyeless closer. “You absolutely are not. You’re so good, Eyeless, you’re such a good boy.”

A low, choked growl rattled in Eyeless’s throat. “Don’t say that.”

That didn’t sound like Eyeless defending his (lack of) self esteem. He sounded genuinely unnerved by Jeff’s words. “Good boy?” Jeff asked.

Eyeless’s growl got deeper and yeah, okay, apparently  _ good boy  _ freaked him the fuck out. Jeff didn’t know why—he wanted to know why and was terrified to know why in the same breath—but he accepted it. 

“Okay,” Jeff said. “I’m sorry. I won’t say that.”

“Stupid,” Eyeless muttered, and Jeff didn’t have to pause to know he was talking about himself. “Such a stupid coward.”

“No,” Jeff said, pressing his lips to Eyeless’s temple. “Just a scared, confused person. That’s alright. That doesn’t make you bad.”

“I’m bad.”

“No. You’re good. You’re good, and I’m proud of you, and I love you.”

Eyeless shuddered and his grip on Jeff grew tighter.

“What? What are you thinking, Eye? Tell me,” Jeff said. 

Eyeless hesitated, and when he eventually spoke his words were quiet and weak and forced through his teeth. “You won’t—you won’t love me anymore.”

Jeff froze. “What?”

“I mean—I mean, it’s not that you’re bad, not at all,” Eyeless said. “It’s just what happens. I—I understand.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? You think I won’t love you after  _ this?  _ After I’ve seen you being vulnerable? Shit, Eyeless, no. If it were even fucking possible I’d love you more.”

“No, not this—well, mostly. It’s just,” Eyeless said, biting his lip, “now that you’re w-with Jack, you can’t love me anymore.”

Jeff stared.

“I mean you can,” Eyeless hurried to add, “only not as much.”

Jeff stared some more.

Eyeless, apparently taking his silence as anger, quailed. It hurt Jeff’s heart to see him acting so fucking scared. “I’m sorry,” Eyeless said. “I know it’s my fault. If I’d—if I’d been normal I would have been able to—to make it not end up this way.”

“What the fuck.” 

“I think that when the—when the scientists made me, they fucked something up. Or maybe they wanted me to be this way, to—to make me more of a monster. I don’t know, but I—I can’t help but think that maybe, if I were normal—”

“Normal?”

“Yeah, you know. If I—liked sex, and romance, and stuff. If I liked all of that, then maybe—maybe I could have had you instead of Jack.”

Cue more staring.

“I’ve tried before. I’ve tried—falling in love, and fucking people, and I just can’t—I can’t—it’s just not me. It makes me miserable, it makes whoever I’m with miserable, I just  _ can’t.  _ Something’s wrong with me. I can’t love people like—like  _ that.  _ And I mean, even I could, it doesn’t matter, right? Jack is better. I don’t begrudge you for choosing him, but I’m so selfish, Jeff. I wish you hadn’t chosen anybody. I wish things could stay the same.”

“You think,” Jeff said, very slowly, “that I chose Jack because he’s better than you—because you don’t like romance and sex?”

“Because of a lot of reasons, but that too, yeah.”

“You think that I’m going to love you less because I’ll start loving Jack?”

Eyeless shrugged, hunching further into Jeff’s chest. “I guess? It makes sense. You can’t love me like you love Jack.”

“No,” Jeff said, “I can’t love you like I love Jack.”

Eyeless flinched, and Jeff gently carded his hands through his hair. 

“Know why? Because you and Jack are two  _ totally  _ different people. Loving you both the exact same way would be wronging both of you—and I don’t just mean romantically or sexually, okay? I love you one way, and BEN one way, and Masky another way—I love you all differently, because you’re  _ different people.  _ You don’t just stop loving other people if you get a boyfriend or whatever, you know. _ ” _

“I know,” Eyeless said, “but you can’t love other people as much. You’re supposed to love your romantic partner more than everybody else.”

“Who the fuck told you that?”

Eyeless shrugged. “Nobody. It’s just—that’s what happens in movies and books and stuff. I just assumed it was true, ‘cause hey—I can’t do romance. What do I know?”

“You know a goddamn lot,” Jeff said, anger rising in his chest, “but that’s not what happens when you fall in love with somebody. You don’t stop loving other people. You love them all equally and uniquely.  _ I  _ am going to love all of you just as much as I ever have, and if Jack expects me to do any differently than maybe I don’t want to be with him in the first place.”

“How can you be sure?” Eyeless said. 

“Of what?”

“How can you be sure that you’re not going to forget to love us?”

Jeff swallowed hard, forcing the tears that want to spring to his eyes back. “Oh, Eyeless. I could never forget something as important as that.”

“Okay,” Eyeless said, squeezing Jeff tighter. “Okay. I trust you.”

Unwilling to speak around the lump in his throat, Jeff pressed his lips to the top of Eyeless’s head and just—breathed, for a minute. He thought that maybe, finally, they were done. Then he heard a tiny sniffle from Eyeless and he pulled back to look at his face. 

“Hey, it’s alright. What’s that matter?” Jeff asked, swiping his thumbs over Eyeless’s cheeks and smearing the black goop there. 

Eyeless made a hitching, half-sob, half-laugh sound, ducking his head. “It’s stupid.”

“If it’s making you feel something, it can’t be stupid,” Jeff said, nudging Eyeless’s face back up. “Maybe it’s incorrect, but it won’t be stupid.”

“I’m happy.”

“That is neither incorrect nor stupid.” Jeff smiled, and god-fucking-dammit it felt like there wasn’t room in his heart for all the giddy warmth that suddenly bloomed there. “I’m glad.”

“I’m happy that I was miserable,” Eyeless said. “I’m happy that I made you waste your time talking to me. That’s stupid.”

“It was not a waste of time,” Jeff said. “It will never be a waste of time. You’re happy because we finally figured this out, even if you had to lash out to get someone to pay attention. That’s okay—that’s  _ good.  _ You should be happy that you got to express all of this.”

Eyeless huffed, but a tiny half-smile was forming on his face. 

“Is that what I think it is, Eyeless?” Jeff said, unable to wipe his own grin from his face. “Is that a  _ smile?” _

Eyeless shoved his face into Jeff’s shoulder. “No.”

“I think it  _ was,”  _ Jeff said, gleefully petting Eyeless’s hair. “I think you were smiling.”

“No I wasn’t,” Eyeless said. His voice was muffled by Jeff’s shirt, but there was the littlest hint of a giggle in it. “Smiling is for chumps.”

“Hey,” Jeff said, acting offended. “I’ll have you know that I smile all the time, and I bet I know how to make  _ you  _ smile.”

“Does it involve a knife?”

“Not for you,” Jeff said, leaning back and running his fingers lightly over Eyeless’s ribs. 

Eyeless immediately burst into a fit of giggles and attempted to squirm away, pushing ineffectively at Jeff’s hands. “Nooo, Jeffy—that’s cheating.”

“Oh, the benefits of hypersensitivity,” Jeff said in a sing-song voice. “Aren’t they just the greatest? Hey, and what’s that? I think it’s a fucking  _ smile.” _

Eyeless kneed him in the groin.

When Jeff and Eyeless were done groaning and giggling, respectively, Jeff sat up. Eyeless tensed, so he gently touched the side of his face and said, “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go piss and grab some water and pajamas, ‘kay?”

“Don’t we need to plan, though?” Eyeless said, and when Jeff turned to look at him his face was filled with a familiar, steely sort of determination. Good. 

“We can plan better on a full night’s sleep,” Jeff said. “The others will understand.”

“You said we were short on time.”

“We are, but not so short that we can’t even sleep after all those icky emotions, okay?”

Eyeless paused, and Jeff attempted to make himself look as stubborn as possible—he hadn’t officially given back Eyeless’s leadership, and he was going to throw his weight around until at least 5:00 AM tomorrow. Apparently, whatever Eyeless saw in Jeff’s face convinced him, because he nodded and slouched back into the pillows.

Jeff grabbed his crutches, slipped out of Eyeless’s room and moved towards his own, finally allowing his shoulders to sag. Goddamn, but that had been a talk and a half. He was exhausted, and he could only imagine how Eyeless felt. It wasn’t a bad kind of tired, though. It was actually kind of pleasant. He felt lighter, and calmer, and maybe just a little bit safer, even though they still had a million problems to solve in the morning.

Jeff grabbed his phone charger from his room and, after a glance at his empty closet, moved to the storage room. He rifled through the many unpacked boxes stored there until he found what clothing of his Slender had packed from the Mansion to bring here. 

Grabbing his ratty black sleeping shirt and his old (childishly) star-speckled pajama pants, he flung them over his shoulder and then looked for Eyeless’s box. He dug out Eyeless’s sleeping shirt—a long-sleeved blue disaster with a fucking  _ puppy  _ on the lower right side—and a pair of matching pants. He couldn’t find either of their sleeping masks or Eyeless’s weighted blanket, which sucked, but he supposed was to be expected. Slender couldn’t have grabbed  _ everything  _ from the Mansion before he came to get them. 

“Jeff? ‘s that you?” 

Jeff jumped, guiltily clutching Eyeless’s clothes to his chest and whirling around. A familiar figure stood in the doorway, featureless save for the unhappy red face pasted crudely onto his mask. “Hoodie?”

“Who else?” Hoodie moved into the room, glancing curiously at Jeff’s things. “I take it your talk with Eyeless didn’t go too horribly?”

“It could have been worse,” Jeff said—although he dreaded to imagine if it had been. “I think he’ll be okay. We’re going to hold off on planning anything until tomorrow morning, though.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Hoodie said. “You must both be tired.”

“Ugh, yeah. I could sleep for a week—but if we’re not up by nine tomorrow, you have my permission to send the cavalry in.”

“Got it,” Hoodie said. “I guess you’re gonna stay with Eyeless tonight?”

Jeff nodded. “That’s the plan.”

“Do you guys need anything? Food, water, dignity?”

“Oh, shut up.” Jeff snorted and shouldered past Hoodie, moving towards the kitchen. “Like you have room to talk, lover-boy.”

Hoodie snickered and fell into step with him. “I do have something else that might help—I mean, it works when Masky and I get to talking.”

“And what’s that?”

“We have an electric blanket. You can borrow it, if you want.”

“Sure, that’d be great,” Jeff said. “Eyeless would probably like it. He’s always cold.” 

Hoodie ducked out of the kitchen and Jeff turned to the fridge, pulling out a couple bottles of water. He wolfed down a piece of toast and some peanut butter while he waited on Hoodie’s return, drumming his fingers on the countertop. 

“Here.” Hoodie greeted him with a blanket to the face. “Don’t break it.”

“How the fuck would I break a blanket?”

“You’d find a way.”

“Fair enough,” Jeff said. “I’ll get it back to you tomorrow.”

“Cool. I’m gonna go pass out now, so I’ll see you in the morning.” Hoodie turned and ambled placidly towards the door, pausing once to add, “Oh, and Jeff?”

“Hm?”

“Thanks.”

Jeff watched him disappear down the hallway, a bundle of confusing motivations and intentions wrapped in orange cloth—but a nice confusing bundle, he supposed. “Yeah,” he said to the empty kitchen. “No problem.”

He made his way back to Eyeless’s room, padding quietly through empty halls and unfamiliar rooms. It was disturbing to have no idea where to find anyone else, if he wanted to. He wasn’t sure where any of his friends’ rooms were, and the idea made him anxious. What if he needed to get to them quickly?

Jeff shoved the thought out of his head. Not tonight. Tonight was for relaxing, not worrying. Tomorrow they could worry about everything— _ would  _ worry about everything, so they could afford a few more hours’ peace. If he started smelling anxious, it would be sure to rile Eyeless back up, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Slipping back into the room, Jeff found Eyeless dutifully rearranging the blankets and pillows on the bed into an arrangement endearingly similar to that of a nest. His mask rested on the bedside table, and if the gentle whirr that Jeff could hear was any indication, the heater had also been turned on. It was making for a cozy start.

“Here’s your clothes,” Jeff said, tossing Eyeless his pajamas. “Hoodie gave me an electric blanket, too. Do you want to use it?”

“Yeah.” Eyeless made grabby hands at him and Jeff threw him the blanket, too. “Thanks.”

As Eyeless incorporated the electric blanket into his little mound, Jeff tugged on his pajamas and sipped at his water bottle. Once Eyeless deemed the bed satisfactory, he did the same. “What time is it?” Eyeless asked, chewing noisily on the lid of his water bottle. 

“A little after eleven,” Jeff said. “Hoodie’s gonna wake up us in the morning.”

Eyeless nodded and ran his fingers across the sequin puppy on his shirt. “Okay. Do you want to sleep now?”

“I will whenever you will.”

“Okay.” Eyeless set his water on the table and flopped onto the bed, squirming into his blankets and patting down a spot for Jeff. “Come on. I made it comfy.”

Jeff turned off the lights and clambered in next to Eyeless, who latched onto him almost immediately. It was pleasantly warm, and the blankets were soft—they weren’t as smooth as he was accustomed to Eyeless’s being, but they would do. The mattress was far from luxurious, but the warmth of Eyeless’s breath at his throat distracted him from that. 

“Night, Eye,” Jeff said, a smile tugging at his mouth. He reached up to scratch around Eyeless’s ears and felt the thin body tangled with his shudder limply. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Eyeless said, and there was something painfully like awe in his tone. Beneath his voice there was a slow, gentle thrum that Jeff had never before—or, if he had, he had been too consumed with his own fear or confusion to notice it. 

“Are you...purring?”

The sound cut off abruptly. “No.”

Jeff laughed and placed his hand on Eyeless’s chest. “Do it again.”

Eyeless huffed at him. “Shut up.”

“No, seriously. It sounded cute.”

Jeff couldn’t see Eyeless’s face in the dark, but he was almost certain it would be turning red. “Whatever,” Eyeless said, but the tiniest little rumble started in his chest again. 

“That’s fucking adorable,” Jeff said, running his hand over Eyeless’s chest to feel the vibrations there. “It means you’re happy, right?”

“Not always,” Eyeless said, nudging his head under Jeff’s chin and sighing. “But I’m happy now. Thanks, Jeff.”

“What are friends for?” Jeff murmured, hiding his eyes in Eyeless’s hair. “You’re welcome, Eyeless.”

He fell asleep to the gentle swell of Eyeless’s purr and his soft breathing, buried under warm blankets and, for the moment, peace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> giant chapter is giant.


	54. In Which A Convoluted Plan is Made

Jeff woke up to the rap of knuckles on Eyeless’s door, loud and unapologetic. He felt Eyeless shift beside him and grumbled at the sudden absence of warmth against his side. “Come in,” Eyeless said, his voice crackly and dry with sleep. 

The door flew up, squealing on its hinges, and Toby barreled inside. “Good morning,” he said, skidding to a cheerful stop beside the bed. Upon seeing them, his face melted into an sickly sappy expression. “Aw, you guys are so cute. I didn’t even know that was possible.”

Eyeless groaned and flopped onto Jeff’s back, crushing him against the mattress in a way that wasn’t wholly unpleasant. “Fuck off,” Eyeless said. “It’s too early for that.”

“That’s so mean,” Toby said, jutting his lower lip out in a pout. “Are you still mad at us?”

Eyeless tensed, and Jeff’s stomach plummeted. That may have been a terribly stupid thing for Toby to say. Was it going to send Eyeless spiraling off into an abyss of guilt again? Jeff seriously hoped not. He didn’t have a problem helping Eyeless out if he felt that way, but they were hard-pressed for time after arguing away most of yesterday. 

“No,” Eyeless said—his voice was smooth and calm, but that did little to assuage Jeff’s fears. Eyeless could regulate his emotions better than anybody (save for when he allowed himself to crumple, as last night, Jeff had discovered.) “I am sorry about that, though.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” Toby say, waving him off. “Everybody gets mad sometimes.”

Eyeless, thank god, didn’t argue about being forgiven this time. He lifted the blankets, letting in a wash of chilly air that Jeff grumbled at. “C’mere, Tobe,” Eyeless said, apologetically patting Jeff’s head. “Rest a little while with us. What time is it?”

Toby beamed and sprawled on the mattress beside them. “It’s almost nine. Hoodie said to wake you up so we could talk about, y’know, stuff.”

“‘kay,” Eyeless said, yawning. “We’ll go down in a few.”

“Do you want me to go tell Hoodie?” Toby asked.

“Nah. He’s not an impatient guy. He’ll be fine with waiting.” 

Jeff stretched and sighed into his pillow. Even though he could feel the stress of today creeping up on them, he found himself content. His friends were alive, and they were all okay, and for now, at least, that was enough. “Who else is waiting on us?” Jeff asked, glancing at Toby.

“Just Hoodie, Masky, and BEN, as far as I know. There’s breakfast, too.”

Jeff checked in with his body and realized that yeah, breakfast sounded really good—he was starving. “Awesome,” he said. “Eyeless did you—uh, you already ate, right?”

“Well, there was no sense in leaving a perfectly good body lying around,” Eyeless said, hunching his shoulders. 

“I know,” Jeff said, stroking the back of Eyeless’s neck and waiting for it to untense. “I wasn’t mad, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t hungry.”

Even if the idea of Eyeless eating Josh’s body kind of squicked him out, what did it matter? Eyeless’s health was a million times more important than preserving an asshole’s body for whatever petty funeral they could have given him. 

“Okay,” Eyeless said. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Mm.” Jeff wove his fingers into Eyeless’s hair, scratching at his scalp and trying to pry a purr from his throat—there was a very slim chance it would work, when Eyeless had clearly moved out of last night’s vulnerable state, but it never hurt to try. At the very least, it made Eyeless relax again. 

“So, like, if you guys are done cuddling—” Toby said.

“What, you jealous?” Jeff said, sneering at him. 

“Does  _ Toby  _ want cuddles?” Eyeless asked, in a childish, teasing voice. He rolled over, hooking an arm around Toby’s neck and dragging him towards them.

Toby squirmed, pushing weakly at Eyeless’s chest. “Nooo, you guys are losers.”

“But you  _ love  _ us,” Eyeless said, rubbing his face against Toby’s hair. “And you’re going to need a  _ shower.” _

“Oh my god, did you get your eye goop in my hair. Oh my god. Eyeless. I hate you.”

“And I love you.”

“That stuff is so fuckin’ hard to get out. Ugh. Fuck you, man.” Toby’s body fell limp and he dropped his head onto Eyeless’s shoulder. “But, uh, I guess I love you too.”

Eyeless buried his grin against Jeff’s neck, and although he was hungry and anxious to begin the day, Jeff had to let them rest for a few more minutes. It seemed like it was helping Eyeless to be close to Toby, and to understand that he was forgiven, and that whatever lashing out he’d done yesterday wasn’t going to be held against him. It might have been helping Toby, too, judging by the way he was relaxing against them. 

Despite how much he loathed to ruin the warm tranquility of the morning, Jeff eventually had to. There were things to be done, and time was already running short—they’d used up a lot of it yesterday. It wasn’t a waste of time, per se, but it was a setback at the same time it was a step forward. With Eyeless back to normal, they could undoubtedly plan faster and more successfully, but they also had less time to do it.

Squirming out from under Eyeless, crawling over Toby, and dutifully ignoring their complaints, Jeff got up. He wobbled on his good foot—his bad foot ached like a bitch—and glanced around the room. 

“Hang on,” Eyeless said, reaching over the other side of the bed and hauling Jeff’s crutches up. “Here.”

Jamming his crutches under his arms, Jeff made his clumsy way into the hallway. Eyeless followed him, messy hair and rumpled clothes and sleepy grumbling as Toby nagged him. They stopped at the bathroom first—brushed their teeth and combed their hair and pretended like everything was normal and fine for a few minutes. Eyeless washed eye-goop stains from his cheeks and plucked irritably at his shirt, which bore similar marks. Glancing down, Jeff realized that his shirt did, too. 

The storage room was their next stop. Neither of them had gotten around to unpacking all of their clothes, so they dug through their boxes until they found something clean and warm to pull on. They shoved their pajamas back into their boxes, then followed Toby to the kitchen. The scent of fried meat and hot bread greeted them, and Jeff’s stomach growled.

“Morning.” Hoodie nodded at them as they entered, his eyes roaming over Eyeless from his place at the table—he doesn’t even make an attempt to hide his curiosity (or his worry), the shit. “How are you guys?”

Eyeless slid into the seat next to him and said something, too low for Jeff to hear. Trying not to eavesdrop—and glaring at Toby until he got the hint—Jeff moved around the kitchen, slathering peanut butter onto a slab of toast and dropping several slices of bacon onto a paper plate. The fridge revealed nothing but lunch meats and water, so Jeff grudgingly settled and grabbed a bottle. 

When he turned back around, Eyeless had an arm over Hoodie’s shoulders, a shit-eating grin on his face, and Hoodie was snickering through a mouthful of toast. Toby jumped into the seat in front of them, and Jeff leaned his crutches against the table and—much more gingerly—did the same.

“Where’d BEN and Mask go?” Toby asked, looking around the kitchen as though they might have appeared in the five milliseconds that had passed since he’d sat down. “I thought we were all gonna talk.”

“They got bored waiting for you,” Hoodie said. “I think they’re on the Xbox. I’ll text them.”

“They didn’t invite  _ me  _ to play,” Toby said, cramming bacon into his mouth and crunching it noisily between his teeth. “Jackasses.”

“You can play later,” Hoodie said. “Right now we have plans to make.”

BEN and Masky strode into the kitchen a few seconds later, and Toby glowered at them as they sat beside him. “What game were you guys playing?” he asked, scowling—although it was missing the subtle twist that meant he was actually irritated, Jeff noticed. “I bet it was really fun. I bet you were just having a great time, while I was running errands and being helpful. I bet—”

Masky pulled Toby’s hood over his eyes and ignored his spluttering. 

“Kids, please,” Eyeless said, propping his chin in his hand. “We have business to discuss.”

Releasing Toby, Masky plucked a piece of bacon from Hoodie’s plate and nibbled on it.  _ Okay,  _ he signed.  _ Discuss away. _

“Yeah,” Toby said, shooting Masky a sideways glare, “what the asshat said.”

“Great,” Eyeless said, voice dry. “So, first things first: what are our goals?”

“Saving Slender,” Toby said. 

“Freeing the other proxies from the EMFP,” BEN said. 

“Staying alive,” Hoodie said.

“Keeping all of Slender’s proxies from killing each other,” Jeff said.

_ Destroying the EMFP,  _ Masky said, and Hoodie translated for Eyeless’s benefit. 

“Great,” Eyeless said. “So what’s stopping us and what can we do about it?”

“Well, for starters,” Jeff said, “we’re stuck in this hellhole house unless we’re on a job—and even then, time constraints are going to prevent us from going after Slender.”

“Do we  _ have  _ to go after Slender?” Hoodie asked. “I don’t mean that we shouldn’t, but if there’s another way to get him back safely—or if there’s even a chance that he does what he says he will and defeats the EMFP without our help—we need to know. It’s pointless to waste our time and energy if we don’t absolutely need to.”

“You have a point,” Eyeless said. “What do you guys think?”

Jeff bit his lip and allowed himself, for a moment, to wonder if Slender was actually telling the truth. What if he  _ could  _ do this all by himself? What if they were interfering unnecessarily? 

“It’s unlikely that he can do this on his own—or even with the help of all the other masters,” BEN said. “I’ve been through their databases, and there’s a wealth of information of exorcisms and banishments and other ritualistic shit like that. After cross-referencing it with what information I could find here, it all seems pretty legit, and that makes it a plausible threat.”

“But we don’t know for  _ certain  _ that Slender is a demon,” Hoodie said. “It makes the most sense, but he’s never explicitly said he is.”

“That’s the same line of thought to EMFP had,” BEN said. “They compiled a shit-ton of ideas, so if one thing doesn’t work, they’ll try another, and then another, and another—just like they did with the proxies, trying to free them from their masters.”

“But they would need time to try all of that stuff,” Jeff said. “And maybe he’s a demon and maybe he’s not, but Slender is powerful. He could kill them before they could try a single tactic, if it didn’t work right away.”

“Provided there wasn’t a salt-silver line involved to trap him,” BEN said. “We know for a fact that salt-silver lines restrain, at least, Slender’s mental powers. That’s why he couldn’t contact us while we were in the compound—at least, not regularly or strongly.”

“And it seems to be the same for the other masters, since they didn’t come for their proxies until after the line was broken,” Hoodie said. “I think it’s entirely plausible that the burners could trap the masters and run through a list of tests until they eventually found one that worked to exterminate them.”

“So there  _ is  _ a threat,” Eyeless said. “We’re all in agreement on that?”

They nod. 

“And there’s no way we can help Slender from this house?”

“I’ve tried going through the web,” BEN said, “but Slender’s command seems to block that, too. I can’t access anything outside of this place. I assume that nobody here has some magical Slender-disobeying powers?”

Masky’s eyes flickered away from the group and Hoodie frowned, reaching over to lace their hands together.

“What is it?” Eyeless asked. “If you have an idea, tell us. We’re not going to let Slender know.”

Masky shook his head. “It’s nothing,” Hoodie said, “only—if there  _ were  _ someone like that, they’d have to be pretty powerful. And it seems to me like Slender’s already taken all of his powerful proxies away. All things considered, having someone who could disobey Slender would probably just mean more problems for us in the long run. What if they’re a traitor, and they’re with him now?”

Eyeless’s lips press into a thin line. “Well. Let’s hope, then, that there isn’t anyone like that. I  _ may  _ have another idea on how to get out of here, but what are we going to  _ do  _ once we get out? How can we help in ways that the other proxies can’t?”

For the first time, none of them had an answer. There were lots of  _ maybes  _ and  _ ifs,  _ but those weren’t worth risking their lives over. What  _ could  _ they do, that other proxies couldn’t? What made them special enough to defy Slender’s orders and go after him with delusions of grandeur like this?

“Well,” Toby said, hesitating. “We’ve been inside of the EMFP compounds. We’ve gone through their files. We know more about them than a lot of other proxies.”

“But we told Slender everything we knew,” BEN said. “Our information is worthless.”

“We’re more motivated?” Toby said. “We have more reason to want to destroy the EMFP than any of the proxies Slender took with him.”

“And what good is motivation if it can’t be applied to something useful?” Hoodie asked.

“Strength in numbers,” Jeff suggested—he knew it was a weak answer even as he said it, but they needed  _ something.  _ “Any little bit of extra manpower they can get will help. When all of the masters are trapped—assuming the EMPF does succeed in doing that—it’ll be the proxies doing the fighting.”

_ There is nothing extraordinary about us,  _ Masky said,  _ but we  _ are  _ useful. Eyeless is a surgeon—god knows you can never have enough of those on a battlefield BEN is a living computer, a wealth of information. Jeff and Toby are two of the best fighters I’ve ever met, and they’re stubborn to boot. Hoodie’s a genius. He can crack any code the EMPF throws at him. _

“That’s right,” Hoodie said. “We’re not the best at anything, really, but we’re very good at very specific things. We’ll increase the masters’ chances of success by being present to offer our skills if they’re needed, rather than moping around here like trophy proxies or something.”

“Even if we can’t do anything, even if they really don’t need us—what harm could it do?” BEN asked. “We could die. Yeah, okay, but we’re going to die if Slender dies, anyway, and we’ve already decided that there’s a good chance of that happening. So why not die doing something useful instead of twiddling our thumbs?”

Eyeless nodded. “Okay,” he said. “That’s good enough for me. Does everyone else agree?”

Another round of nods. 

“So what’s the plan from there?” Eyeless asked. “How are we going to find Slender and get to him and help him? And how are we going to do it without getting killed, lost, or captured—because this time there’s nobody back at home waiting to help us.”

“You said you had an idea about how to get out,” Jeff said. “What was it?”

“Well,” Eyeless said, taking a deep breath. “I knew Slender would give us an out—if he’s going this far to keep us safe, then he wouldn’t make us stay here if something threatened us. Hoods, what did Slender say about leaving, verbatim?”

“He said, ‘With the exception of your jobs and life-threatening situations, you are forbidden to leave this house—again, on pain of death.’ But the jobs had time limits, so can I go out on a limb and assume you want to create a life-threatening situation?” Hoodie said. 

“Clever as always,” Eyeless said, grinning. “That’s exactly what I want to do.”

“Great,” Jeff said.

“That sounds dangerous,” BEN said. 

_ Cool,  _ Masky said. 

“Um, but—how?” Toby asked, picking nervously at the bandages around his hands. 

“The best thing I could come up with—forgive me, Jeff—was fire,” Eyeless said. 

“Oh, come on,” Jeff said, scowling.

“Slender’s smart. We can’t just threaten each other. I figure we have to actually  _ feel  _ like we’re in danger. That won’t happen if we fight each other, and I wouldn’t trust any of the other proxies to do it,” Eyeless said. “Caving in the roof might work, but it’d be pretty hard. This place is old, but the rafters sound sturdy. Even if we broke them, the collapse might be unpredictable, and some of us could get caught in the debris. But if we set the place on fire, we’ll have a pretty good idea of where it’s going, and we can be prepared to escape it.”

“How close would it have to be to us, though? To get everybody out at once, with a fire on our heels—people would get trampled, and you can’t tell them to stay calm. That’s not the point,” Hoodie said. “They’re supposed to feel scared.”

“Not necessarily. Threatened and scared aren’t synonymous. If there’s a fire near us, and no way out but the front door or the windows or whatever, everyone will know that if we don’t get away from it, we’re going to die. It’s a fact. That doesn’t mean we have to be scared of it, if we know that we can get out  _ because  _ it’s going to kill us if we don’t. Does that make sense?” Eyeless asked, looking around the table at them.

“In a convoluted sort of way,” Hoodie said, “yeah.”

“So I’m thinking we get everybody together, explain what’s going to happen, and light the place up somewhere near the front door, so we’ll know if it spreads to the upper floors—and hopefully so that we’ll be out before that happens. The command breaks, we get out of this place, and we hightail it to wherever,” Eyeless said. “Sound good?”

They all exchanged agreeable looks, and Jeff groaned, dropping his head onto the table. “Seriously?” he asked. 

“Sorry, bud,” Eyeless said, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “You’ll be the first one out.”

“Ugh. Whatever. Fuck you.”

“But before that, we need to decide what we’re doing once we get out. Do we even know where Slender is?” Eyeless asked. 

“If we don’t, I know how we can find out,” BEN said. Five expectant faces swiveled towards him. “Er, I mean—probably?”

“What is it?” Hoodie asked. 

“Once Slender’s command is broken, we’re free to go anywhere, right?” BEN asked. “And Jeff, you talk to Jack on the phone, right?”

Jeff nodded, and he saw Hoodie’s eyes light up across the table. 

_ That’s a great idea, BEN,  _ Masky said.  _ Do you think you could do it? _

“Do what?” Toby asked, looking helplessly at BEN. “What are they talking about?”

“I can trace the call and figure out where Jack is—hell, I can go there myself, if I need to,” BEN said, lifting his chin a little. “That’d work, right, Eyeless?”

“It definitely sounds like it. Now, we have limited supplies, so—”

The rest of the morning was spent hashing out logistics—what to bring, how much of it to bring, how to transport it, how to travel without being caught, and other miscellaneous boring crap that Jeff didn’t care about. He spent most of the meeting tracing the patterns on the table and wishing he hadn’t forgotten his phone upstairs, until at last Eyeless was satisfied.

“Alright,” he said,. “We’ll leave tonight, so eat up, take a nap, pack what you’ll need. I’ll tell all of the other proxies to do the same. Masky, Hoodie, I’ll help you pack up the infirmary stuff in a little while, okay?”

They both flashed him a thumbs-up before ducking out of the kitchen. Jeff went to follow them—it was going to be hell packing with crutches, so he needed to get a head start on it—but Eyeless caught his sleeve. “C’mere a minute,” he said, pulling Jeff off to the side. “You usually talk to Jack every day, right?”

“Well—yeah, but that’s only because I’m trying to figure out where they are and what they’re doing, it’s not because—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Eyeless said. “You’re such a macho-man, you don’t give a shit about him, yada yada. Listen, you haven’t talked to him today, have you?”

“No. I’ve been a little busy.”

“Awesome. Don’t talk to him until tonight, ‘kay? That’ll make sure he answers when we need BEN to trace the call—and it’ll keep him from suspecting anything.”

Jeff nodded. “Okay, but, um—he said he would call last night, and I’m not actually sure if he did because I was with you, but—if he did call, and I didn’t answer, then he’s probably already worried. If I keep ignoring him he might flip.”

“Well then,” Eyeless said, grinning wickedly, “he’ll just have to feel miserable for a little bit, won’t he?”

Jeff couldn’t help the little half-smile that tugged on his lips. He still liked Jack, but he did have to admit that he was just a teensy (fucking lot) bit pissed the fuck off about what he’d said to Eyeless. Maybe it would serve him right to be left out of the loop for a day. “Yeah. I guess he will.”


	55. In Which Jeff Has a Stupid Life Motto

As he’d predicted, it took far too long to pack  _ and  _ balance on his crutches. BEN offered to help, but Jeff waved him off—they all had jobs to be doing, and BEN’s wasn’t to help him. Most of his things were still in the boxes in the storage room, which made things a little easier. He drew his name on them in Sharpie and set them in the foyer, where Eyeless had directed them to begin placing things. 

The other proxies, having been briefed by Eyeless, were bustling to do the same thing. There was a palpable nervous air around them—whether they were afraid of Eyeless, or of Slender’s wrath should they break his command, or of being  _ unable  _ to break his command, Jeff didn’t know. It certainly didn’t make for a peaceful day, though. 

After several minor spats and fights, Eyeless had to pry himself away from packing up the infirmary to oversee them. It didn’t make anyone happy, but it did settle down the other proxies down. Everyone finished packing before sunset, and they ate dinner in separate places. Jeff found his place balanced precariously on the top of the refrigerator, munching on a ham sandwich. 

As comfortable as his room was, it was too distant—he wanted to be left alone, not isolated. It was stupid, but thinking about the house being set on fire made his skin crawl, and in his paranoia he didn’t want to travel far from the front door, because what if they forgot him? What if they started the fire and he couldn’t escape? What if he burned to death?

That line of thought made his ham sandwich taste a lot drier. Setting it to the side, he drew his legs up to his chest and watched the world outside the kitchen window. It had been hell climbing onto the fridge with hurting his ankle—and Eyeless would kill him if he knew—but he did like the view it provided. 

Being over everything, being able to look down and see what was happening, it was comforting. It was probably also domineering and narcissistic, but hey—that was him, right? Outside, the trees in the forest were rattling their branches together. He could imagine that once they were away from this house, away from the excitement of escape (and the fire) the cold would set it. They would be shivering and miserable.

But none of that mattered now. Their lives were lived on impulse. Their lives had been lived on impulse ever since Slender had sent them away, and despite how well that suited Jeff’s nature, he found himself craving stability. He wanted schedules and orders and safety and wasn’t that just stupid? He had always been the one to shirk them off. 

Realizing he was obsessed with keeping himself safe, like Jack had said after he’d kissed him—it hadn’t made him better. If anything, it only made him recognize all the worthless, harmful things he kept doing to achieve that safety. He didn’t know what to do about it. He didn’t know how to be better. He didn’t know how to stop doing what he did—the yelling and the hiding away and the false bravado—he only knew that he was supposed to hate himself for it. 

He thought that, if everything went back to normal, maybe he could make himself better. Maybe he could quit being such a cowardly jerk. But how? And what were the chances of everything going back to normal that easily? Even if they defeated the EMFP, even if they all got home alive and well—and what were the chances of that?—could they ever trust Slender again? Could he ever trust  _ them? _

A noise in the kitchen doorway startled him, and he glanced up to see Masky leaning against the wall.  _ Don’t think too hard,  _ he signed.  _ You’ll hurt yourself. _

“Don’t be a hypocrite,” Jeff said, scoffing.

_ It’s Hoodie who does all the thinking, really,  _ Masky said, climbing easily up next to him and hanging his feet over the side.  _ I just do the looking cute thing. _

“Yeah, I’ll believe that in a million years.”

_ So what are you thinking about?  _ Masky asked, glancing at him. Though the holes in his mask, Jeff can just make out the glint of two curious, dark eyes. 

“Nothing, really,” Jeff said, shrugging. “A lot of nothing.”

_ You’re afraid of fire, right? _

“I know.” He scowled. “It’s stupid.”

_ I’m the last person who could tell you being scared of something is stupid,  _ Masky said. He fiddled thoughtfully with the sleeve of his jacket, allowing the silence to stretch between them until he finally added,  _ I’m scared of coughing. _

“What?”

_ I know. It’s really silly.  _

“No, that’s not—that’s not what I meant. I just didn’t know that.” And that was strange, because he knew almost all of Masky’s fears—not because of any particularly close relationship (although he did fucking love Masky) but because they all had to be very careful not to accidentally scare him.

_ You learn something new every day,  _ Masky said.  _ Anyway, yeah. Slender told me that when I was a kid, I was really sick. It’s a lot better now, but every time I get a cold I get nervous.  _

“Is—that’s what your medicine’s for, right? The stuff you take every morning?”

_ Among other things,  _ Masky said, tilting his head.  _ But that’s not the point. The point is that all of us are scared of things—fucked-up pasts are, like, an initiation ritual around here. Nobody’s going to think you’re stupid for being nervous around fire, with your history. _

“I feel like I should just get over it,” Jeff said, sighing. “I know that’s not how it works, but—god, I wish it was.”

_ Tell me about it,  _ Masky said.

“And I keep thinking about all the ways this plan could go wrong. It’s irrational, but what if we get stuck in here? What if Slender’s command doesn’t break? What if we’re all burned to death?”

_ Then we burn to death,  _ Masky said, shrugging.  _ But that’s unlikely to happen. I can’t tell you it won’t, but do you really think Slender would make a command that we couldn’t break if we really needed to? If it helps, you know you have the ability to stop all of this. If you told Eyeless not to go through with it, he’d listen. So make a choice. Even if it ends in the same result, it’ll help you feel more in control.  _

And that was true, wasn’t it? He could stop this. He could stop there from being a fire. He could control the fire. That was a comforting thought. It was also a control-freak thought. “Am I control freak?” Jeff asked, suddenly curious—if Jack could see his tendency towards obsessive self-preservation via asshole behavior, then could everyone else?

_ Oh, yeah. Definitely.  _

Jeff felt his face fall, and Masky scrambled to correct himself. 

_ I mean, uh—but it’s not bad? It’s nowhere near as bad as Hoodie is, anyway. You’re just a little bit overbearing? Sometimes? Not terribly, but, I mean—I mean it’s reasonable, given the way you’ve grown up. Nothing that can’t be fixed. Hey—oh, damn it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Don’t be mad? _

Because of course the first thing Jeff would be was mad. Jeff was  _ always  _ mad. Jeff was an angry, obnoxious, control-freak, self-centered, petulant piece of shit. “No, it’s fine,” he said, even though it fucking wasn’t. He reached out slowly, giving Masky plenty of time to flinch away if he was going to, and patted his shoulder. “I asked.”

_ But, um, just so you know—that doesn’t make you a bad person either. It just means you have some things to work on, and that’s okay. _

“When’d you get so wise, kid?” Jeff said, cracking a smile. “What are you, twelve?”

_ Sixteen, dumbass, and you’re not very much older. Hey, but you know what really ticks me off?  _ Masky asked. 

“No, what?”

_ Toby’s older than us.  _

_ “What?  _ Since when?”

_ I know, right?  _ Masky said, puffing himself up with indignation.  _ He was, like, only seventeen a couple of years ago. It’s like he’s been getting older  _ with  _ us or something? I only remembered when we had his birthday party, and then I forgot ‘till today.  _

“My god. He’s nineteen. What.”

_ Right?  _

“He shouldn’t age.”

_ You think we could arrange that? _

“I leave you for five minutes,” Hoodie said, slipping into the kitchen with a box under each arm, “and you’re already plotting to supernaturally alter the ages of our family. Honestly, Masky.”

_ Preternaturally,  _ Masky said, putting his mask back on, hopping gracefully off of the fridge and taking a box from Hoodie.  _ But seriously, do you ever think about the fact that Toby is older than us? _

“He’s what.”

_ Exactly. So where are we taking these? _

“Toby’s older than us.”

_ Yeah, boo. We know. Now what are we doing with these boxes? _

“Outside. We’re putting them outside,” Hoodie said. Jeff thought he heard him mutter, “Older than us?” under his breath. 

“Not in the foyer?” Jeff asked, leaning forward. 

“Hm?” Hoodie glanced up, evidently torn from his traumatic reconciling of his and Toby’s disparate ages. “No, outside. We’re gonna throw them as far as we can so they’re easier to move away from the house when we break the command.”

“Oh, okay. I guess I should move mine..” Jeff carefully lowered himself off of the fridge and back onto the floor, grabbing his crutches. 

“How’d you get up there, anyway?” Hoodie asked.

“I climbed,” Jeff said. “I thought that would’ve been obvious, boy-genius.”

“I suppose, in hindsight, it was,” Hoodie said. “But I think you’d better be careful who you go around mocking, if you don’t want a little birdie to tell Eyeless you were up there with a broken ankle.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Of course not,” Hoodie said, following Masky out of the kitchen. “Why would I rat out someone who isn’t bothering me?”

Scoffing, Jeff trailed after them and into the foyer, and although he grumbled about it, he let them fling his boxes outside for him when none of the other proxies were watching. They vanished shortly after that, off to do whatever the fuck it was they did in their spare time—planning to overthrow the government or some shit like that, probably. 

BEN and Toby found him glaring at the boxes now strewn across the house’s front yard, wondering if they’d even get a chance to grab them and run. They could just get stuck inside. They could just burn to death. They could just be leading the other proxies to the slaughter like a bunch of bloodsoaked, petty lambs. 

“Wanna play a game with us?” BEN offered, peeking up at his face. “Take your mind off it?”

He could try to deny that there was anything to take his mind off of, but—what was the point? With BEN, with Toby, what was the point? It wasn’t like they couldn’t see right through him, and it wasn’t like they were going to look down on him for worrying about their house being fucking set on fire. Saying there was nothing he was worrying about would be a lie, too. 

Plus, there was something in BEN’s tone that Jeff didn’t quite like—something small and nervous and hopeful. 

“Won’t work,” he said, instead, but he refused to shut them out  _ completely.  _ He was done with that. 

“Maybe not,” BEN said. “But it would be fun for Toby and me. We could totally whip your butt at Mario Kart.”

“Mario Kart?” Jeff snorted. “Why are you playing such a kiddy game?”

“Kiddy?” Toby asked, his voice low and his eyes narrowed. “You think Mario Kart is for  _ kids?  _ How about you play us and then tell me what’s  _ kiddy  _ about my raw motherfucking skill and competitive edge?”

And who was he to shrug off that kind of a challenge? Setting his jaw, Jeff marched into the living room and plopped down in front of the TV. The three of them played games as the sun began creeping down, and although Jeff lost more than he would have liked to, he had to admit that it did make him feel better. Something about smashing buttons on a controller and screaming at the screen was therapeutic, and it cracked Toby and BEN up—which, although he refused to acknowledge it, made him feel the tiniest bit happier himself. 

Unfortunately, it could only last so long.

“Um, Jeff?” A proxy hovered awkwardly in the doorway, wringing their hands. They looked familiar, heavyset and crowned with a shock of neon green hair, but Jeff couldn’t recall their name. It danced on the edge of his tongue—something with an A. “Toby? BEN?”

“Yeah?” BEN asked. His voice was bright, but it was just the slightest bit wrong. Was he scared of what they were going to do, too? Why? It wasn’t like he could die. 

Wait.

“Eyeless, um—Eyeless Jack wants you guys. He’s in his room.”

“Oh, okay,” BEN said, standing up and adjusting his hat. “We’ll be right there.”

The proxy nodded and ducked quickly out of the room. Toby pushed himself up with a melodramatic groan, reaching for his goggles and slipping them back on. “I don’t wanna,” he said, a whine in his voice. “Oh, jeez. Why’d we agree to this again?”

“BEN,” Jeff said, and BEN paused, glancing back at him. His irises were glowing—he must have been terrified. “Why are you scared?”

“What?” BEN asked, plastering a cheeky grin across his face. “You think that I can’t be scared of death ‘cause I’m dead?”

“No,” Jeff said, except—yeah, that was what he thought, so he amended his statement. “Not really, I guess. Sort of.”

“Well,” BEN said, hunching his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. “You’re sort of right.”

“So how are you going to get through Slender’s command?” Toby asked, coming to stand beside BEN. “If you’re not going to die, you can’t get out. That’s what Slender said. And you  _ can’t  _ die, so—”

“It’s like Eyeless said,” BEN said. “If you  _ feel  _ like you’re going to die, the command should break. I  _ might  _ be able to die again. Slender wouldn’t make a command that I, specifically, couldn’t break, because of that. There are too many unknowns about my state of being for him to take that risk. So, I figure, if I feel like I’m gonna die, the command will break for me like it will for you guys.”

“But that’s going to be more difficult for you, isn’t it?” Toby asked, frowning. “You know that the fire won’t kill you, so—”

“Don’t worry about it,” BEN said, thumping Toby on the back with a strength Jeff wouldn’t have believed could fit in his tiny body. “I already talked to Eyeless. We figured it out.”

“Oh, cool. So how—”

BEN rolled his eyes and strode towards the stairs. “Nevermind, Tobe. C’mon. We don’t want to keep Eyeless waiting.”

Toby cast Jeff an uncertain look, which Jeff could do nothing but mirror. They followed after him, tromping up the stairs with a weight to their steps that Jeff, for the life of him, couldn’t shake. He  _ hated  _ this. He hated this, but—

But it was his choice. It was  _ his  _ choice, dammit. Nobody was forcing him into this. Nobody was (pouring bleach over him, cracking a bottle of vodka over his head, throwing a tiny, insignificant lighter at him) doing this to hurt him.

Walking into Eyeless’s room, he couldn’t say that he felt confident, or even comfortable—but he didn’t feel overwhelmed by raw panic, and that was something. “Hey,” Eyeless said, standing to greet them. “You guys are all ready, right? Your stuff is outside?”

The three of them nodded, and Jeff couldn’t help the swell of pride he felt when he noticed that neither Toby nor BEN hesitated at all. They had grown more decisive, or maybe less dependent—despite every terrible thing that had happened in the past few months, they had grown in ways that weren’t twisted and sad. Maybe that made this whole shitty situation worth something. 

“Awesome,” Eyeless said. “Jeff, you’re with me. Toby, you go down to the foyer and send Hoodie up here—he should be rounding up some of the stragglers. Then you can start piling up some kindling. Boss around some other proxies if you need the help. I’ll be down in a little while so we can start the fire.”

“What about BEN?” Toby asked, unfortunately detail-oriented where his friends were concerned. Although, Jeff had to admit that he was just as curious. “What’s he going to do?”

Eyeless paused, and Jeff could almost  _ feel  _ the silent conversation that passed between BEN and him—made up entirely of subtle scent changes and minor shifts in position that Jeff, for all he wanted to, was fucked to try and understand. “I have another job for BEN,” Eyeless said, moving towards the door and clapping Toby on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No,” Toby said, his hands balling into fists at his side. Jeff’s body tensed—he understood Toby’s fear, but to hear him refusing Eyeless’s leadership so soon after finding out about Eyeless’s terror of that very thing—it kind of set him on edge. “I  _ am  _ worried.”

“Why?” Eyeless asked, and there was genuine curiosity in his voice. “Have I given you something to worry about?”

“No, that’s not—that’s not it. I just—I’m sick of all these fucking secrets, Eyeless. I’m sick of things happening around me and me not knowing and then shit like—like all of  _ this  _ happening.” Toby gestured to everything around them—the strange house in the middle of a strange forest, the awful absence of Slender’s presence, and, no doubt, the grainy, uneasy memories packed into their heads. “It’s not right. At least—at least, it doesn’t feel right.”

Jeff understood that. It was the same thing had been plaguing him. It was the reason he’d sworn not to let things drift around him any longer, the reason he’d sworn to  _ notice  _ the things happening around him—in his life, in his friends’ lives, hell, even in the newbies’ lives. 

“And I understand that,” Eyeless said, inclining his head. “But there are some secrets that aren’t mine to tell. I—”

“No, he’s right,” BEN said, lifting his head from where it had been bowed in a careful study of his boots. “I’m tired of secrets, too.”

“BEN,” Eyeless said, frowning. “You don’t have to—”

“I know. I want to.” BEN took a deep breath and turned to face Jeff and Toby, straightening his thin shoulders until Jeff thought they would snap. “Okay, but first—you guys have to promise not to freak out. What you’re doing is equally stupid.”

“Oh, great,” Jeff said, running a hand over his face. “That’s always a good place to start.”

Toby groaned. “See, what’d I tell you? If you have to have a warning like that, I obviously have a right to be worried.”

“And you’re already freaking out,” BEN said, glaring at them. “This is why secret-keeping is so tempting.”

Toby snapped his mouth shut with an audible click, and Jeff swallowed the words that wanted to cram themselves from his own mouth—questions and doubts and things that could obviously wait until BEN was done. Seemingly satisfied, BEN gave a single nod that sent his hat sliding over his eyes. 

This amused his audience, and Jeff and Toby broke their momentary silence to snicker. 

“Oh, fuck off,” BEN said, shoving his hat back. “I’m trying to be serious.”

When this failed to appease either of them, BEN turned helplessly to Eyeless. “Eyeless, tell them to— _ Eyeless.” _

Eyeless was laughing silently into his hand, the edge of his broad silver grin just visible around his palm. “Your hat,” he said, “did it just—”

BEN stomped a foot into the ground. “Yes, it did, and fuck you.”

“That’s so  _ childish,”  _ Eyeless said, still giggling. 

“It’s so adorable,” Toby said, making gooey-eyes at BEN and clasping his hands in front of him. “You’re just so cute, Benny.”

BEN groaned, but there was a tiny smile tugging at the sides of his mouth—and a tiny blush tinging the tips of his ears. “Fuck you, too. Do you want to hear what we’re doing or not?”

It took them a couple of minutes, but eventually they quieted themselves down. The weight of the future seized them by the throat again—it could be driven off temporarily, but Jeff was coming to discover that temporarily was a very short time. BEN straightened up again, wiping the smile from his face and clearing his throat. 

_ “Anyway,”  _ he said, “as I was saying: don’t flip.”

Toby and Jeff nodded, sobering further at the mention of whatever stupid thing BEN was going to do. 

“So we were talking about early, how I can’t die, so I can’t really be afraid of dying, right? So Eyeless and I came up with another plan. If there’s one thing that’s sure to make me feel like I’m dying all over again,” BEN said, his voice straining to remain cheerful, “it’s drowning.”

Oh. 

“So we figured if we could—if we could get me to think I was drowning, the command would break for me, too. That’s the plan, anyway,” BEN said, smiling wide and bright and fake. “‘cause I have to be there. I have to trace the call. Oh, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting you guys go off without me, so—that’s that. It’s settled.”

“Fuck no.” Toby stared at him, jaw working. “That’s not—that’s not right, BEN. You shouldn’t have to do that. We can find some other way, we can—”

“Yeah, maybe we can,” BEN said, “but it’s too late. We’ve waited long enough already. Everyone’s ready to go— _ I’m  _ ready to go. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed. I’m not going to back out now. I’ve made my choice.”

_ Has Masky gotten to you too?  _ Jeff wondered, looking hard at BEN—at the way he stood, the way he moved. He was anxious, but there was something steely beneath that fear. “Okay,” Jeff said, forcing his hesitation out of his voice. “As long as you’re sure.”

Toby whipped around to face him, eyes wide. “What? You’re just going to agree to this?”

“It’s his choice,” Jeff said. “I trust him to make it.”

“Wow,” BEN said, and he looked genuinely surprised. “I didn’t expect that from you.”

“Yeah, because it’s  _ stupid,”  _ Toby snarled, whirling back to face BEN. “What are you thinking, BEN? You’re going to let—let Eyeless  _ drown  _ you?”

“No,” BEN said, scowling. “I’m going to let Eyeless  _ almost  _ drown me. It’s nothing to be worried about. It’s not like I can die.”

“But you’ll be—you’ll be—”

“Scared? In pain? Fucked over by memories I can’t stand to think about in the daylight? Yeah, I will be,” BEN said, a stubborn set to his jaw. “Just like all of us have been, at one point or another. It’s nothing new. But it’s also—it’s also why I need you to stop freaking out, Toby. After it’s—done, I want you to be there.”

“Me?” Toby paused momentarily, taken aback. “I don’t—why would you want—?”

“Because you’re my  _ friend,  _ you fuckass,” BEN said. “And being around friends helps when I’m freaking out, so I’d like for you to shut up, get out of this house, and meet me outside in a little while. Can you do that?”

Toby hesitated, his brows drawn together in a decidedly unhappy frown. “I—yeah, I can, but BEN—”

“I’ll be okay, Toby,” BEN said, standing on tip-toe to cup Toby’s face in his palms. “We’ll all be okay.”

Toby sighed, a forlorn sort of wariness in his eyes. He cracked his neck and bowed his head to rest it against BEN’s shoulder. BEN obligingly ran a hand through the scraggly mop of his hair. “Are you sure, though?” Toby asked, voice low. “You know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I know,” BEN said. “I want to do this. Sure, it’s scary. I’m not gonna pretend it’s not. But it’s going to be worth it—if we can get out of here and help Slender to defeat the EMFP? Can you imagine how proud he’ll be? And then we’ll get to go home, and everything can go back to normal. We can play video games, and stay up late, and eat chips and soda ‘till we feel like we’re about to die. Won’t that be fun?”

It didn’t sound like any sort of fun Jeff would want to have, but Toby nodded. 

“Okay, then,” BEN said, stepping back and clapping Toby on the shoulder. “Let’s stop wasting time. Go do your job, Tobe, and I’ll do mine.”

“Okay,” Toby said, his jaw tightening. “Be careful, BEN. I’ll see you in a little while.”

BEN nodded, and Toby slipped out of the room with one last, determined look back at them. They listened to the stomp of his feet down the stairs until it faded off into silence. 

“So, uh—why am I here?” Jeff asked, glancing back at Eyeless and BEN. “Not that I won’t be, if you want me to be, but—”

“Security,” Eyeless said, rocking back on his heels and playfully tugging at BEN’s hat. “As sweet and gentle as our Benny-boy here seems, I’ve got no doubt that he’ll fuck up anybody who tries to hurt him—which, in this case, is going to be me. I want you there to make sure nothing goes horribly wrong. Think you can handle it?”

“You want me to defend you against a scrawny 4’9 ghost-bitch—”

_ “Hey.” _

“—when he inevitably freaks out because you’re forcing him to relive one of his biggest nightmares?”

“Yep,” Eyeless said. “Of course, Hoodie’ll be helping, too.”

And then, because it had become something of a stupid, stupid life motto, Jeff said, “Sure. What could possibly go wrong?”


End file.
